The RaKoLa Collection
by Mugen7
Summary: A collection of stories primarily focused on three characters of the series. Rated [T] and does contain some strong language. If to occur, a higher rating will be made known.
1. Jaded (Lazy on Monday)

**Disclaimer : The following is a fan-based work of fiction & I do not own BlazBlue (Mori's got that sweet ownership).**

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 **RAKOLA**

 **Written by Mugen7**

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 **Chapter 1: Jaded; Lazy on Monday**

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It's a sunny day in the Eighth Hierarchical City. The risen sun burned with a white hot shine as its illuminance empowered the cerulean blue sky with a calming radiance over the city, and maple red and forest green leaves evoked a buoyancy of prosperity and freshness in the city that regained its lost wealth.

While a sunny day it was also a slow day; a Monday; as people commuted in sedated fashion. Leisurely moving through the urbanized streets of the towering and grandiose pyramid-like settlement fervently influenced by traditional and modern East Asian architecture with a European flair, all with an amicable air.

It was an even slower day for one individual in particular.

Found in the residential district of the city was a single traditional modernized Japanese home. Soundly tucked away beneath a duvet the muffled sound of hoarse groaning echoed aloud with a quiet whisper; cracked into short lengths before stringing out into a long croaky tune.

Sprawled out from under the insulator two pairs of slim limbs straightened out as the body shuffled in a slothful manner. Fingers spread apart and toes curled in tightly, and a pair of white tipped pink tails with ruffled fur extended out in full length. Back arching slowly, shoulder blades moved in towards the other whilst the spine popped multiple times from having been set out of alignment overnight due to crooked sleep.

Their sensory function caught up soon enough from lag. The arch of their feet flexed from the sensation of a bitter chill that contacted overly sensitized flesh, causing them to quickly retreat back underneath the crumpled entanglement of the bedspread. A shiver and squirm later the person turned onto their side and curled their body in on itself, taking the fetal position. Thighs rubbed together to generate heat between their legs and forearms and the knuckle bump of their big toes worked together to scrounge up any warmth they could muster.

"Fuaaa!"

A heavy mind leaden with grogginess. Eyelids with pink lashes fluttered halfway open, and golden amber eyes stared into the pitch dark overcast with bleared vision. Only a thin ray of natural light peaked through the small opening at the head of the king-sized futon.

\- **Sniff.**

Sadly for this person; this _woman_ ; it was a work day. But she didn't feel like doing anything except lay in bed; the excessive desire to lounge away too strong for her to rebel against. Strong enough so that she chalked it up to an experience of clinomania.

Though strictly speaking, the woman was knackered.

She'd forgotten what it was like to have a normal sleeping pattern. That lack of sense was marginally greater when you were a top officiated scientist whose work kept them out of the sack more and more often over the years, especially when compared to the bite-size employees who worked in the same field.

"Hmph!"

A vast portion of the last day, continued onward from the day before that, was spent knuckling down on unfinished work. It was on a Sunday. You know, _Sweet Sunday_. A day of rest and gladness and whatnot. As the lord intended for it to be. Well, that Sunday wasn't so sweet. Rather it was sour, annoying, a right genuine piss-take in all measure for the woman.

She sighed, recounting the long hours revising notes and additional findings in her analysis as well as catching up on some further reading of different theoretic cases in order to type up a damn scientific paper on some Magical Theory mumbo jumbo that estimated at somewhere over ten thousand words.

"Urrrrrrrrrrgh." Such a drag. Literally.

Why the pursuit of a profession as a scientist again, the two-tailed woman either did not know or just didn't care to try and remember. She was _way_ too tired to recall shit that far down on memory lane.

Don't misunderstand now, she enjoyed her work and took the utmost pride in it. The success of production depended on the amount of attention paid to the detail, and when it came to her work, excellence could be found in _every_ detail.

"Mm-hmm."

Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time at least.

"Psh!"

But who's even cares, right? That last point-one percent can be a right bitch most of the time. Nevertheless, her work was outstanding.

"Mm."

After the mind-numbing finish-up of a thesis filled with scientific and arcane jargon that'll mind fuck a lesser mind or incompetent schmuck, the two-tailed scientist gravitated over towards her entertainment system for some well anticipated (and much deserved) online gaming. Waiting through all of the previous week to break in a new fighting game that came bursting with technical wizardry and cinematic greatness. After testing the open beta she was sold on the game's explosive fighting system. Solo-based combat may have been her general shtick, but the trio-based style of gameplay had its charm, and this game knocked it out the park _so_ hard.

Thing about her; she loved characters that put an emphasis on grappling the opponent. What they lacked in mobility they more than made up for in high health, defence and resistance, and _very_ generous punishes that dealt some serious damage. So it was a match made in heaven when one of the characters she prioritized in using had the above and suffered none of the drawback of poor mobility. A tank who was all about giving some free hugs, and she simply loved power-bombing the ever-living shit out of other players and raising hell with her prime choice altogether. And that high health regeneration factor was a bonus when it counted.

"Fu fu fu."

Her next choice was a character with a unique gimmick that let them steal the opposing character's abilities which beefed up their own specials, and all-round, synergized well each other. The character had a collection of ranged assaults that made them versatile. They had speed, they had reach, their combo potential was great for pressure, and they had an incredibly fast special that ended with an explosive finish (like every other playable character, of course). And the icing on the cake? This character loved confectioneries like yours truly.

"Mm~."

The third pick varied in all honesty, since she would rotate between three characters specifically. One was a destruction enthusiast that was good at keeping the opposition in the air which made for good mix ups, and could conjure six spheres that could readily be deployed aggressively in a multitude of ways; the other was a multi utility pick that had long reach that out-ranged most of the roster's normal commands, had an unblock-able special, and was overall a well balanced character with some of the best combo potential; and the final slot was a trickster who was just fun to play with – great for pressure, a lot of specials that made them unpredictable and good at performing fakes, not to mention blasting the other players with rapid firing projectiles was glo-ri-ous!

"Fu fu fu fu fu."

So to surmise (and be somewhat specific) her two main picks were a robotic giant and a bubblegum scientist, and her third slot varied between a godly cat with a snooze fetish, a seven foot tall bug man, and a dynamite kid with a flair for dramatics. All in all...

"Purrrrrrrr-fect."

It came to be a late night and early morn of online matches that bolstered the woman's win streak. She was undefeated with her line-up; her gameplay like her theories. On point.

"Ha!"

Unfortunately her larking took its eventual sour turn. Did the undefeated become defeated? Oh no-no-no no. Let it be clear that she was undisputed. Okay, sure, she'll concede that she did in fact have a few close calls early on.

"Pft."

However clutch time made for an intoxicating wave of relief when pulling off a win. There were indeed top tier players, but the sourness did not come from them. Oh no...

In lieu of fighting to the bitter end (even if the poor souls didn't have a ghost of a chance at winning) _these damn fuckers,_ decided to be encumbered in the good old, yet still alive and kicking case of _Rage Quitting_.

" _Grrrrrrr._ "

Bunch of salty bastard and bitchy button mashers who can't handle going toe-to-toe with someone who knows how to play the game. Jeez, it was one helluva nuisance, one after the other she'll tell ya.

 **\- Incoherent cursing.**

They thought they were suffering? They thought they were annoyed and erect with rage? Ha! _Wrong!_ The only thing those losers had going for them was how strong their pull-out game was.

Did they even have a clue on how many hours she spent breaking down this game? How many hours she spent to _git gud_ with her chosen team? How many players she had to _crush_ and _annihilate_ to make it to the top!? No! Of course not! They don't even _know_ her struggle and determination to be the very best, like no one ever was.

"Inconsiderate jerks."

Alas... Sooner rather than even later, she had dropped out of the lobby and, well, crashed. Hard in fact. Spending the entirety of the past week pulling all-nighters and having to listen to a load of bullshit from the committee about this and that, working on the paper and topping it all off with hours of competitive gaming, the two-tailed woman zeroed out like a behemoth who'd been tranquillized with a knockout dart to the rear. Not to mention her overconsumption of silver vine to constantly boost her cognitive performance had a detrimental effect on her in the end. She would _not_ be touching those lollipops anytime soon; guaranteed.

"Urrrgh."

Since there was _no_ _chance_ of getting out of bed, she counted this as an extended weekend. Heck, the woman might take the Tuesday off also. Make it a _Terrific Tuesday_ , or a _Taco Tuesday_ even. So long as it wasn't a terrible one; the last was bad enough. Besides, they'd still be making money should she choose to stay in all throughout the week. Those overweening ingrates at the agency can stand to not have her around for a day or two (even more in fact). She was overdue for a vacation anyway.

"Mm."

Right now however, she just wanted nothing more than to sleep some more; extremely tired after the week she had. But falling asleep proved difficult when she couldn't stop thinking.

"Hmmm."

Eyelids heavy, thoughts heavier.

It's really hard to drift off when your brain won't shut up.

" _H_ _mmmmm!_ "

Seriously. This _Slow Monday_ was becoming a moody one, and if she didn't get more sleep her already mercurial temperament would end up becoming worse.

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 **Mugen7: I'm unsure of how far this collection will go for if I'm perfectly honest. I set myself with a target of three chapters (three; such a nice and small odd number) anything more than that is unclear. I mean, I could easily say "I've got a ton of ideas that I'm WAITING to craft into chapters" ... But then I'd be lying if I actually did say that (Only got like... one, or two).**

 **Anyways, Imma leave it at that for the time being. L8r.**

 **P.S. _BlazBlue Alternative: Dark War_ anyone? Thoughts on what little we have so far?**


	2. Capable (A Proud Living)

**RAKOLA**

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 **Chapter 2: Capable; A Proud Living**

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From the naturally vibrant and affluent décor of strong and fertile herbage, to the classic and imperial design of buildings and temple-like structures; the otherworldly and overawing artistry of Japanese aesthetics (sculptures of Buddha and dragons, as well as colourfully judicious artwork graffiti of native illustrations; from Oni to culturally symbolic animals); and the overall casting of warm, calming auras of daylight that befell the grand city, one of the notable attractions of the towering establishment was its market district. An area suffused with an air of pleasantry and salutations that magnetized many – both locals and visitors alike.

A large and commonly active sector that procured and produced and assortment of culinary delights and essentials, from foods to cooking equipment. Shops were found everywhere; small sized market stalls had open pantries which stocked a wide array of fresh fruit and veg whereas larger ones devoted most of their retail space to a variety of seafood and meat selections.

Despite the days slow activity the area was spirited enough to be populated with a crowd, and passing through the frivolous wave of locals was a man with distinct spiky blond hair (sharp end bangs fringing his face) and sun-kissed skin that emitted a healthy glow in reply to the ambient rays of the sun.

"She's most likely gone and burned through all the sweets at this point." His stance was both straight and casual, and he flowed through the oncoming crowd of pedestrians with an easy-going pace; a willingness to take his time in heading back home. "Let's see now..." he voiced, stopping at an outdoor eatery that sold a multitude of confectioneries.

He was a tall man; young and mature looking, and garbed in a deep green hakama and low v-neck that fastened itself to his lean muscular frame. Enough of his chest was visible so one could see a unique black birthmark at the centre, just below his neckline. He trekked in earthly toned boots with metallic traits, and wore a longline cardigan which matched the colour of his eyes; jade green. Around the waist of his cardigan was a large brown leather belt with a polished silver plate engraved with the inscription _Epsilon-05_.

"How much for all of this?" He asked the store clerk.

"Fourteen-fifty." Fishing out fifteen platinum dollars the blond handed the money over in time to have his purchase wrapped and passed over to him.

"Keep the change." Granted with a smile the clerk courteously waved goodbye as he headed for the district's exit, but not before grabbing a few free samples of cinnamon flavoured treats on the way out.

"Well I managed to get some fish and poultry," he remarked, looking at the full bags of shopping in his right hand. "Shame there was no beef though. Was hoping to revise a gyūdon (beef bowl) for when B next came by."

Returning from his trip abroad earlier on the blond didn't expect to forgo jet lag. Instead he was awake with an ample sum of vitality, making it easier for him to have the forethought of dropping his luggage off at home first before taking a detour through the market.

On his voyage, he had first flown over to the _Twelfth Hierarchical City of Kukunochi_ in response to a client's call before taking a trip to the _Eleventh Hierarchical City of Shinatsu_ for a personal excursion.

"The new herbs and spices I got from Shinatsu will come in handy once I pick up on aromatic cuisine again." Green eyes; seasoned by a calm and sagely light through a culmination of experience, developed a critical and hardened edge as he began to think about possible dishes to make. "Where to start...?"

The man had become a renowned individual who earned himself a couple, thought-provoking, monikers, that were recognized worldwide. But before his global fame, his notoriety was restricted to one location; one where its populace did not see him in a positive light. Nevertheless, in spite of the fearsome repute he had built up as roguish youth who was foul-mouthed, aggressive, and capitalized a pension for usurping both authority and the law with his rebellious temperament, Ragna, was in fact a guy of compassion and generosity who also had a sensitive side in addition to having the patience of a saint... when he wanted to at least (must've inherited that respective quality from his mother figure).

"Hmm..."

Some people still didn't catch that memo however; years down the line to the present day (they certainly knew how to hold a grudge).

From his end, the blond didn't hold any grievances of his own towards those who were against him (though not for lack of trying). They were just irrelevant. Plain and simple.

While the fickle, close-minded, and blind saw him as some sort of menace and felon (dubbing him out to be some kind of anarchist), to the rest of the world he was an assertive male who gained a flair for creativity in the culinary arts.

"Something unconventional perhaps? Delicate, flaky, and light... White fish or salmon, with turmeric, cumin, black mustard seeds... ginger, chilli peppers, fennel seeds, cilantro, and some toasted fenugreek and dessicated coconut. And tomato for a base will do nicely."

A trailblazing maverick in the food industry. An infamous cook, dubbed the _Vagabond Chef_ , who was acknowledged and remembered for his sensational and worldly recipes that utilized different themes from across the globe; fashioned through a mix of arbitrary and dynamic cooking methods that were backed by a nuance of sophistication, which brought about dishes that stored impactful and focused flavours that shocked food palates with such astonishment that customers, professional chefs and food critics were rendered silent with an authenticity of startling enlightenment before being struck with a euphoria of mixed tonalities...

"She likes her wholesome foods, so something nutritious, but colourful and warm..."

The blond never knew the true definition of a _foodgasm_ until the day one of his signature dishes had a woman... well... rapt with pleasure. Until it had her collapse in what could be described as a dead faint, which then led to an excessively dramatized telling of how the _"woman's soul had been harvested and devoured by a phantasmal beast that lurked in the great blue yonder"_ (people can be so excessive at times).

The aftermath of that theatrical display had folks calling him the **_Shinigami no Ryouri (Death Spirit of Cuisine)_**...

Or, something along those lines.

A title like that had grabbed a lot of attention. He wasn't too keen on making it a habit of showing up on the media, and if he could help it, he'd remain incognito for as long as possible.

"Carrots, red bell peppers, and garlic. Some red curry paste, curry powder, and coconut milk... Red and white quinoa, basil, kale, lemon zest; top it off with a spoon of Greek yogurt, and a few lime and mango slices, chilli, bit of cilantro, and a side of naan bread... and a cookie."

It was a difficult road to becoming a professional chef. When held in contempt without people truly getting to know one's character beyond preordained opinions (negative viewpoints and overdrawn hearsay, etcetera) there wasn't much that an orphaned youth such as himself could do in the way of pursuing an interest that grew into a passion he wished to embrace wholeheartedly. One he dreamt of making a living out of.

Unfortunately for the blond, he was born with shitty luck. If he were to be given a luck stat, a pink-haired scientist would give him an E, or a D, _at best_.

"Tsk."

He didn't have an income, and the orphanage he lived at didn't have the funds to send him to culinary school, so he tried his poor luck at seeking employment at any food establishment; from small diners to actual restaurants. He had a number of doors shut and slammed in his face, sad to say. What's a boy gotta do to earn the chance to work in a kitchen? (didn't even make it to dishwashing duty let alone stepping foot through a damn door for an interview mind you).

" _She_ on the other hand is gonna want something sweet as usual..." the tension between his brows eased, and his weak frown turned upside down. "Duck breast; honey glazed and seasoned with cinnamon, cloves, fennel, star anise, and Szechuan peppercorns... Nutmeg, or liquorice?"

The only kitchen he was able to cook in was the orphanage's. Certainly, he liked helping the Sister prepare meals, but that wouldn't offer much in the grand scheme of things. Ragna wanted work experience in an actual dining establishment so that he could learn more, but that opportunity seemed more and more non-existent with every turn-down he faced.

Although, not getting what you want at first, can make for a wonderful stroke of luck later on.

"Vinegar? No, she doesn't like vinegar. I could implement cranberries and oranges, with redcurrant and juniper berries. And a salad?" he scoffed at the notion, "I've been spoiling her with the sweet stuff way too much as of late so she better eat it." A proclamation shadowed by a mental note to hide the wrapped confectioneries when he got home (or at least attempt to).

Don't ask how exactly it all happened, because not even he fully understood the sudden paradigm shift in his life. One moment he was experimenting with a recipe in the orphanage's kitchen, and the next thing he knew the Sister was sending him off to be apprenticed to the butler of a respectable aristocrat and his haughty daughter who was a...

"Bunny-leech. Wait, what!?" Genuinely taken aback from the sidetrack, "Lost my train of thought there... Uh... where was I? Oh, right, salad..."

He was surprisingly awarded with the chance to create his own opportunity and make something of himself; like he'd randomly been gifted a golden key to open a door to a new possibility. Flabbergast aside, Ragna was thankful for his august benefactor bringing him into his household to learn under an accomplished cook. Though it still left the unanswered question of _why_ the senior had bothered with him in the first place. Upon failing to get a straight response and be yet again left in the dark, Ragna left the topic alone; figured he'd be given an explanation whenever ( _if_ ever).

"Kinda amazed my hair didn't turn white from all the crap I had to deal with."

Subconsciously raising his left hand he massaged the spot where his patron's daughter, Rachel, had bloody bit him. Hard enough to draw blood.

"Damn bloodsucker and her twisted urges."

If Ragna didn't know better he'd think that the blonde's act of aggression was a sign of affection.

"..."

Hard to tell, especially when she acted like a _"_ _bitch with a heart"_ on a regular basis. That particular attitude of hers didn't make his life any easier when he lived at the grandiose estate.

"Such a Tsundere."

She'd never admit that she had a soft spot for him, just as easily as she'd deny the fact that she blatantly bit him and _literally_ drank the small amount of blood she drew from him; readily stating that she'd never commit such an act so _"savage and unsanitary"_.

"And the old man never took too kindly to me at first to begin with." The aforementioned being the family butler, Valkenhayn, who was quick to express his disapprobation of his master bringing a low-class commoner and delinquent into the Alucard household, "Talk about a warm reception."

In the face of his two masters, and those he saw proper deserving of respect and noble profiling, his pony-tailed mentor was a calm, hard-working, and fiercely loyal servant of the Alucard family. However his rational disposition belied a protective and feral man who was ready to bare his fangs and claws against those who insulted and posed a threat to the two night-like patricians. And the man had absolutely no qualms about giving his apprentice a swift kick whenever he proved himself _"recalcitrant"_ (he liked to use fancy words).

"I fear not the man who has practised a thousand kicks once, but the man who has practised one kick a thousand _bloody_ times." Reciting famous words almost word for word, and grimacing at the painful reminder of his mentor giving him his first kick for being incompetent. "Guess child abuse does fly in some parts." His wry comment grabbed the attention of a passer-by who sent a questionable glance his way, "Good thing Pops was nice enough to cut me some slack."

Mistakes were made, obviously. His mentor exemplified on his wrongdoings and he himself had learned to repress the error of certain ways he conducted himself in whilst living at the estate. Such as toning down his use of coarse language, an old habit that would, in fact, never die.

"Fuckin' right." Proving the point.

While under Valkenhayn's tutelage he studied and learned all he could before his benefactor had him attend an illustrious cooking academy (somewhere east of the Twelfth and Fourteenth Cities and north of the Twenty-third) where he gained acceptance through a special enrolment on his benefactor's part. There he was further taught and trained alongside aspiring young cooks by esteemed chefs who became instructors for the foreseeable semesters.

The curriculum was intense; designed to whittle down and cast off those who couldn't endure the harsh regime. Even with the savoury moments of rest and leisure it was a cut-throat environment where you constantly had to be on guard; whether it be from instructors making sudden announcements of upcoming challenges that abruptly came into effect, or students who attempted to sabotage you because of a grudge.

 ** _\- Sigh._** "There's always someone."

Ragna had to deal with the latter issue quite often. Not many took kindly to the fact that _"_ _someone like him"_ garnered an increasingly impressive track record in the academy. It was one hardship after another, but he was unwilling to let some spiteful and green-envied youths drag him down. He was resolved to learn all he could from the instructors at the academy and _no one_ , was gonna get in the way of his growth.

A long fought struggle, it had been. But by the grace of Blue he overcame it all.

"Heh."

After graduating and completing one last stagiaire at the restaurant of an instructor, Ragna returned to the Alucard household.

While not openly expressed, his mentor was impressed by his student's growth, and the bearded senior was all for showing delight at the blond advancing in his craft; both in a light-hearted and dignified mannerism.

And as for Rachel?

"Good grief," as condescending as ever, "you'd think it'd hurt to give me a compliment." Or simply own up to the fact that she was candidly amazed by his development.

"Such a pain." He shook his head, though his expression was far from irritable.

In the past, he was hardly given an opportunity to test his mettle in a big setting. Fortune had smiled on him in the end. The academy turned out to be his biggest setting by that point; presenting dishes to highly regarded connoisseurs who judged students during events. And Lady Luck smiled for him when he showed he was fit to handle the pressure of a more stately trial.

Aligned with the Alucard family's invite to attend a formal dinner at Wadatsumi Castle, he was to attend as a chef who would be cooking alongside Valkenhayn (invite by honorary request) and a strong team of chefs for a highly influential audience. Where a handful of them had, in time, became some of the blond chef's greatest clients.

At the time, he was privy to knowing only that said audience was a large family of prestigious rank. When the reveal of their identity shed its taunting light, Ragna was more than a little thrown off his game (nothing too seriously, rest assured). He was up to the task of proving his merit before a collective ménage of nobles, _believe it!_

"You just had to go for the element of surprise, huh Pops?"

He just wasn't expecting to prepare full course meals for the _Twelve Originators_ who were all gathered to commemorate a special occasion.

"Tough crowd."

He says that, but his anxiousness didn't exactly stem from those of the Twelve, but rather from a purple-haired, red eye Empress who was in attendance and saw fit to keep a close watchful eye on him (for reasons unbeknownst to the blond).

"Weird..."

An arduous night, but one not without distinction. He let loose a wild and hearty laugh, recalling the end of the night's dinner service at the castle.

See, a fair number from the Twelve were doubtful of the fact that a young man could handle the pressure and responsibility of cooking at the high standard of their collective family. But there were those, however, who knew better. With his benefactor and, surprisingly, his mentor, correcting all misaligned thoughts on the subject matter, the chefs made for the kitchen. _But_...

"Idiots."

One. Snide. Remark. Aimed at himself and simultaneously the Alucard family Head, had rightly triggered the blond.

"Should've kept a tight lip."

Won't go into detail but, let's just say that his cooking did a _fuck ton_ of chatter.

Gratification unmitigated; it was a splendid sight for a younger Ragna to see specific aristos shut up in response to the preparations he personally made. As for the Alucard patriarch? Well the unshared comment was no stain on his family name. If anything the jade-eyed maverick's expertise served to exalt it more so.

"Thinking about that night never gets old."

...

No one had ever called him a prodigy before then. Instructors and frequent critics back at the academy were close-lipped about their real opinion of him, and the Sister may have openly called him talented (and surely stood by that belief over the years) but she had never labelled him with the term. Such a title was as hefty as it was meaningful.

Before his innate talent was discovered, and throughout his apprenticeship and studies at the institute, a part of him saw no definite sign that he'd succeed as a chef in the far yet not so distant future. It wasn't a matter of him not believing he'd become successful, rather it was him following a pragmatic view than an idealistic one. Anything could've happened to stunt his advance.

...

Was it perchance that the man he'd come to view as an elderly father figure discovered him way back then?

A mere stroke of luck, maybe?

Was it fate?

...

Neither _fate_ nor _luck_ had been on his side for what felt like the longest time since he became aware of life.

He never believed in fate, in a manner of speaking, and he had never been fortunate enough to find luck either.

He was of the mind that luck had to be made...

And make it he did.

Ragna never sought full-time employment again. With furthered validation of his prowess, he was a likely shoo-in for recruitment from high-tiered restaurants.

Alternatively, he went solo; becoming a Freelance Chef; and his chosen path in progressing through his career was met with mixed responses from the three residents of the Alucard household.

After turning down a couple job offers of full-time placement at three star establishments situated in the western Hierarchical Cities and expressing his desire to travel the around the world and expand his knowledge of cooking more, his mentor showed no shred of disapproval for his former student's decision.

 _"A person should not harbour any fear for choosing to give up a good opportunity for something greater."_

One thing he didn't think he get used to was Valkenhayn acting, _somewhat_ , friendly towards him. And, was it implied that he was anxious to travel across the globe on his own?

"Don't think so...?"

In any case, the jade-eyed maverick was flummoxed by his mentor's ambiguous show of support.

And the senior patron had chosen to settle for a smile and a fond farewell, as well as imparting some choice words of his own.

 _"Live your life and take chances. Be eccentric, for I implore you to be, because right now is the oldest you've ever been. But it is also the youngest you'll ever be again."_

Seriously, what is it with this family and their need to be cryptic?

"Jeez."

The aristocrat's words of wisdom were open to interpretation, howbeit they remained etched in Ragna's mind over the years.

"Thanks for taking me in, Clavis." Pronouncing the man's name with a soft-hearted smile.

Rachel on the other hand?

 **\- Eye roll.**

Less forthcoming about her actual feelings concerning his leave.

The blonde gothic Lolita couldn't keep up the regal appearance, thus her stolid and mordant character gave way for a seemingly crestfallen expression (clearly upset that he chose to gallivant around the world than stay at the estate). Her peevish rebuttal was to be anticipated when he asked if she was crying.

 _"Don't be absurd! As if_ I _would shed tears for a crass lout such as yourself."_

She wasn't fooling anyone. The little shakes and not-so-subtle wiping of her eyes was more than enough evidence for the blue archive up in the sky.

"Missed you too Rabbit."

In time he set out for the horizons; undertaking a continuing journey of learning and self-improvement, and one where he met some new faces through his travels.

"Wonder how everyone back at the tribe is doing?" the image of a happy-go-lucky cat girl accompanied by a clowder of cat folk and litter of Kaka kittens projected itself. "No doubt causing a ruckus and getting up to mischief."

He enjoyed the freedom that came with freelance. It granted a balanced lifestyle where he was free to cook in any environment he wished; be it outdoors in the wilderness to seek inspiration, or indoors lending aid to establishments who were on the rise to success; and the chosen lifestyle didn't impede on his free time to spent with those back home. He moved about and cooked wherever he pleased, hence the origin of his first nickname.

Tutting, "Who the hell came up with those titles anyways?"

The food industry saw fit to regard him; as with dozens of others who'd come before and would come after him; as a _"Genius Cook"_ and a _"Master Chef"_.

A young and talented culinary artist.

But he didn't think of himself that way...

Maybe that's just him being modest, but if it was solely a matter of _talent_ , then, to him, his only real talent was _perseverance_. It's what kept him going all this time. Striving, even now.

He chuckled, "I never did know the meaning of 'give up'."

The maverick was humbled by those who corroborated his diligence rather than instil a sense of arrogance (not that they ever would).

Not many child prodigies grow to become adult geniuses. They burn out; become lax once they've achieved their dream(s); and adhere to a lack of motivation to improve more. They lose the fundamental spark that foreshadowed their potential greatness, and their passion and drive starts to dwindle, resulting in stagnation, or worse, degradation.

But not him...

No. His spark was still lit; very much alive and kicking. Igniting his passion and drive with a rapturous red that transitioned into a burning blue blaze.

Young, and percipient over time. No matter how much he acquired there was still more to learn. Every friend and every rival; every peer and every mentor, all of them had something to offer, and while the world may revere him as a _master_ , he'll forever be a student, growing and honing his craft in the long years to come.

"I got there in the end, Sister... and I'm still going strong."

Life, was as good as the mind-set. And this life of his, was a good one. One he was proud to live and chiefly valued.

"Huh!?" Time had flown by. So much so, that he had reached his destination.

Up ahead on the path he tread, a ways back into the city's suburban area, was a large and congenial East Asian home. Traditional in exterior design, yet accentuated by modernity and a health display of greenery.

Ragna smiled. Out on the front lawn, a young blonde-haired woman was drawing in a sketchbook; her quietude evermore refined when focusing on the intricacies of her art in development. Right beside her, offering its body as a comforter, was a very big dog with a thick and fluffy coat of tan fur. And out on the wooden deck, cosily lounging in her giant beanbag in a luxuriate state whilst playing on a handheld device, was a pink-haired woman with two tails that moved in a lackadaisical sweeping motion.

"Figures."

The dog's ears perked up at the sound of his voice, and its head lifted. Beady onyx eyes started to shine.

"Hey boy."

Springing up to his feet the hyperactive canine dashed over to him whilst barking loudly with cheerfulness for his return; the spontaneous action having grabbed the attention of the two females.

"What took you so long!?" The feline woman yapped with a testy attitude.

(It felt good get away every now and again...)

"Welcome back." Said the blonde who set her sketchbook down and approached him, still mindful of the last exact pause in her work. Though her face retained its default neutral expression, scarlet red eyes flashed bright with happiness.

"Thanks." He replied, stroking the blonde's head.

"Did you get my sweets?" The pinkette interrogated.

"Yeah I got them." _So much for hiding them._

"Hand 'em over."

"Jeez, not even a 'hello' or 'how are you'?"

"Yeah yeah hello, now hurry up and gimme."

 _ **\- Sigh.**_

"Truly I've been missed."

"Arf!" The dog barked, standing on his hind legs and using his front ones to lean on Ragna, who tousled his fur playfully.

"You shouldn't eat too many sweets Kokonoe."

"Oh don't mother me Lambda."

"Someone has to." Was Ragna's retort.

"I don't care for your tone."

 **\- A sharp and nonlethal glare.**

"You weren't supposed to."

 **\- Followed by a jab to his chest.**

"Don't get feisty with me."

"Arf! Arf!" Tail wagging.

"Did you have a good time abroad, Ragna?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you all about inside."

(But the feeling of coming home, was an amazing experience that he'd never get enough of...)

 _Home sweet home._

* * *

 **Mugen7: Originally planned for another piece of work to be published but I wound up forgetting about it entirely until I was reminded of the date a couple days back. So, seeing as this was more or less done (edited on day of update; won't be surprised if some errors slipped my view, or worked their way in after a I saved my work), I decided to post the second chapter of _RAKOLA_ instead on this day instead.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	3. Aspect (Hairdo)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Aspect; Hairdo**

* * *

"Hold still."

"Okay."

As a woman, Kokonoe did indeed take pride in her appearance. Although she didn't concern herself with it all that much; being a hybrid with a quality set of genes meant she didn't crack easily, and wouldn't for many more years to come.

Aside from genetics there wasn't much the pink-haired cat-girl bothered with in regards to her own looks. She wasn't a girly girl, but she was a woman who liked to flaunt nonetheless.

She liked to flaunt her twin pink extremities; an expression of pride in her racial background despite the gripe she had with her father. She also liked to flaunt her signature black thong; a nice aesthetic that was comfortable, sophisticated, and brought a share of sex appeal that conformed with her feline curves. Then there was her modified white Kaka coat that showed off her midriff – she may not be opulent as her buxom acquaintances (a personal lacking feature the scientist still soured over, predominately in regards to her chest) but she was slim and well-toned, hence why she willingly flashed her flat abs. And despite her small frame the cat-girl packed a mean punch; lethal when backed by her spiked knuckle duster. Plus her strength wasn't anything to scoff at either (her armaments weren't lightweight ya know).

Other than physique and attire, Kokonoe never put much emphasis on her hair.

Sure, it was long and pink; the natural colour conveying both feminine and sweet qualities in the woman that only came through when she wasn't acting like a severe and bossy cynical bitch. However there wasn't anything more to it than the initial display. Her trademark ponytail with two triangular tufts of hair to overshadow her own cat ears since they were noticeably small.

Her knowledge of hairstyles was rather limited. There'd only ever been one other style she adopted and that was a long time ago. What she'd been using regularly was a conventional style the scientist couldn't be arsed to change. Kokonoe was far to immersed in 'important things' to worry about putting her hair through a catalogue of troublesome styles lacking in any sort of long-term practicality.

At least... that's what she was certain of.

But, yes, 'important things'. Such as developing new tech and upgrading armaments and tasting delicious treats; new and old... and getting 100% completion on every video game she owned and planned to buy... and watching anime, and reading manga.

The refashion of her hair however? No, neither at the forefront or on her mind in general.

That had soon changed though.

When Lambda came home and politely asked Kokonoe if could try out different hairstyles with her, priorities began to shift.

At first the hybrid, lightly, dismissed the blonde's kindly asked request with the excuse that she was busy; meaning she was lounging in the living room as she ate snacks and watched an animated cyberpunk film. She figured Lambda would've taken the hint and went on her way – because she knew the cat-girl didn't like to be disturbed when engaged in 'important things'. But the blonde didn't go about her way. She was very adamant and Kokonoe didn't know why. The blonde was like her; never fussed over the style of her hair.

 _So why the sudden interest all of sudden?_ She wondered.

Assuredly, Kokonoe wasn't the type to break under pressure. With the Lambda however, the scientist didn't fare so well, anymore; learning just how weak she was when it concerned the girl.

Whether it was her purity, her adorableness, or her gentle soul, Lambda had this charm about her. One that the scientist registered as magnetic; harbouring an attraction the force of her Graviton couldn't compare to.

 _"But,_ Master _?"_

The way in which Lambda had spoken the title had her back tingling; ticklish sensations running down and through her tails inciting a twitch. It wasn't much, but Kokonoe learned in due time that being called 'Master' in **that** tone was a precursor to the jackhammer that broke through her defences with ground-breaking ease.

When the blonde silently moved and showed up in the cat-girl's direct line of sight, unexpected, a one-sided battle of attrition ensued. One inevitably in the blonde's favour.

 _The girl's a damn charmer and she doesn't even know it._

Big round eyes. Bright; filled with wonderment and curiosity, and red with a brilliant scarlet shade. When feline slits locked with those dazzling orbs, Kokonoe instantly felt her resolve being chipped away until she was at the girl's mercy. A pair of of spellbinding red circles made the pink-haired scientist a sucker for the cute and credulous bio-weapon.

"You like this one, yeah?" She asked the blonde whose deadpan look denoted a measure of enthusiasm.

Lambda was kneeling in front of the scientist holding a handheld mirror while looking at her own reflection. She in fact did _"like this one"_. Her long hair had been unwound from it usual braid and tied into pigtails.

Unable to see it, but Kokonoe knew full well that the Lambda was smiling, and the girl's avid approval of the hairstyle was validated further by the rosy pink blush on her cheeks.

Nodding, "Do you like them too, _Master_?"

Kokonoe had allowed (thanks to a loss of resistance) Lambda to put her own hair in the same style beforehand. Her two pink tufts left untouched so as to make a distinction.

"Uh, yeah... sure." It was a simplistic and childlike hairdo. Aside from reminding her of another red-eyed blonde who ticked her off on occasion, there wasn't anything more to add.

 _Then again..._ out of the two, Kokonoe preferred to see the style on Lambda instead of the haughty bloodsucker. _Lambda + Pigtails = Ka-Ka-Ka-Ka-Kawaii!_

No way she'd say that aloud. She'd choose to be indifferent than to gush over how increasingly cute Lambda looked with the different style.

"May we try some alternative styles, please?" Once again, red spellbinding circles – reflecting hopefulness and fervour – stared into amber eyes with narrowed pupils.

"... Yeah," sighing in defeat with a shrug, "why not."

If spending a portion of her free time doing what the benign girl wanted to do for a change would make her happy, then who was she to say no, especially to that face. Azure knows how much the blonde had done and continued to do for her.

Diligent, sincere, and while a bit dependent still, Lambda went out of her way to care for and watch over the pink-haired hybrid whenever she overworked herself and failed to take her own well-being into account (simple things like draping a blanket over her when was she passed out over her desk went a long way). The blonde did a lot for the cat-girl without asking for anything in return, so what would it hurt to indulge her red-eyed... friend... .

 _Yeah... I suppose we are._ Kokonoe mused, "Whaddya wanna try next?" She waited as the girl flipped through the pages of a fashion magazine; red eyes analytical as her mind logged the styles that caught her eye.

She stopped, "May we try this one next, please?"

Pink eyebrows coupled with a white tomoe-shaped fur each rose inquisitively.

The page showed an attractive woman whose hair was braided on one side – giving the illusion of a shave – whereas the rest of her hair was adapted in a sleek yet wild Mohawk.

 _..._ _Cool._ She hadn't expected that. Then again, there wasn't a lot to expect from a girl whose new fancy was still in development, "Yeah. We can do this one." Lambda readily crawled over to her side and got to work.

"Koko-chan," addressing the scientist by a nickname she agreed only to use when at home (damn whoever heard and started calling by it).

"Hm?" Eyes resuming their focus on the TV, Kokonoe didn't notice her friend's soft smile.

"Thank you."

"..." She wasn't used to mushy-gushy stuff; felt awkward.

But, she supposed that a quick mushy-gushy pat on the side of the Lambda's head would suffice. Just this once.

"Nn," and a complimentary grunt to go along with it.

Kokonoe never put much emphasis on her. However, this... was proving to be, kinda fun.

"... Mind if I choose the next one?" She asked, uncaringly. Though that was just a ruse.

"Not at all." Lambda responded, a slight evident trace of excitement in her voice.

The side of the cat-girl's mouth quirked a little bit.

Maybe she'd change her hair more often.

* * *

 **Mugen7: Since I wrote this one on the fly (then redrafted it afterwards) I decided to post this as the next chapter in place of the one I originally had planned to post (kept getting pushed back more 'n more due to other matters).**

 **New characters announced for CTB; cool - It shouldn't anymore, but I'm still somewhat surprised the whole of the original Calamity Trigger line-up wasn't brought forth. It's obvious people are stilled griping on a lack of a Masked Bitch (A "blasphemy" as some might say, and it seems he won't be added to the roster, but don't take my word for it). Plus, as cool of a cat Jubei is... heh, it's funny to me that Tao's taken a back seat to him – girl should've been out time ago in my opinion (already a Tao player ready to fume if she ain't official, ha!).**

 **S'all for now. L8r.**


	4. Cold (Huddle, Cuddle, Snuggle)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Cold; Huddle, Cuddle, Snuggle**

* * *

It was cold.

No, far from it.

Calling it 'cold' would be a major understatement.

It was absolutely freezing! Numbingly so.

"F-f-f-f-f-!"

The Eighth City had experienced a rapid climate shift.

It's temperature had been temperate, set to an agreeable warmth that was satisfying for the populace, and, usually, had been complimented by blue skies, white clouds and plenty of daylight.

Now on the other hand, the enclosed climate had plummeted, reaching sub-zero levels of cold that spread some measure past the city's borders but no further - the wintry atmosphere concentrated within the establishment most of all.

The cold climate exceeded that of the Ninth City's, a place that had their Weather Control Device (WCD) disabled still.

And speaking of Weather Control Devices.

Ever since the Federation's central government authorized the restoration of the Hierarchical Cities within its union, one of the tasks set forth was the re-servicing of their WCD, fixing the climate regulation utility and thus recreating the agreeable warmth to ensure the environment was comfortably suited for working conditions and hospitable for refugees, and others, who wished to take up residence in either city.

The task was met, and in due time both cities were re-inhabited by many whilst reconstruction and development projects were still underway. And with the worldwide advancement of Ars Magus, progress was swift.

But...

Any system of power – magical or technological – is rarely perfect. Even if said system of power was Ars Magus itself.

Now either by an undesired intervention or by a careless idiot ('cause it only takes one) Wadatsumi was the only city of the two whose WCD suffered from severe malfunction (of 'some kind') thereby effectively jamming the output and putting the unit through the wringer altogether.

What followed quickly afterwards was a snowstorm with bitter sides of chill and frost. An announcement came by later, stating that the whiteout was expected to last for no more than a week.

That was much too long for some people, however.

Kokonoe never liked the cold. Period. She may be well adapted to it thanks to her impressive beast genes, but anything too deep in the minus region and the feline gal would up and throw (inwardly) a fiery fit.

The moment she was fully aware of the situation the hybrid got busy; working on upgrading the house's Thermal Regulation Unit, or, 'TRU', as she liked to call it.

Depending on what, precisely, Kokonoe set her mind to, she could build up a 'flow' rather easily. Whether immersed in an engaging piece of work or a fulfilling activity that energized her brain, the cat-girl was no stranger to the elevated mental state when her 'flow' was smooth sailing. And as it turned out, maintaining a viable heat source to counter the outdoor weather and help her avoid numbing frostbite, was more than enough to kick start the current.

Wouldn't've taken long to improve the unit. Her concentration was at its peak and all she needed was one decisive nudge to get her into the zone and start working at double the speed.

... Nevertheless.

 _Frick!_

People have habits.

 _Frick!_

Habits can effect a person's performance.

 _Freaking Frick!_

And they're believed to be hereditary by some minds.

 _"Habits tend to do with the neurological conditioning of the brain and aren't genetically passed over."_ – 'logical' reasoning that the pink-haired genius wished applied to her... but didn't.

 _Just my luck_.

A highly focused individual when absorbed in, and driven by motivation. Whereas her human half kept focused, and could easily venture into a higher state of consciousness when bordering the meditative state, Kokonoe's feline persona was as easily distracted as a Kaka who suddenly developed a craving a the sight of meat buns, or became naughty at the view of and eye-catching 'pair'.

In the end it all came down to yet another reason for the hybrid to scathe her father for certain quirks.

 _Damn him_.

She didn't know for certain if her father's attention ever happened to be fleeting, but she wouldn't put it past the old war veteran for the simple fact that he's a cat. A powerful anthropomorphic cat with extraordinary abilities, sure, but a cat nonetheless.

 _My genes are my folly_ , she wasn't sure if she was really-really lucky, or really-really unlucky to have her dad's genes. _Well, at least I didn't get mom's poor sense of direction_.

Whenever her inner feline scratched away – wanting to come out to play – her human side didn't get clawed in with the shenanigans (not since she was a kitten), staying independent from her other half's influence... to an extent. But where this time the cat had gotten into the act, the human fell for its tact.

To her delightful and rigid shock, her distraction came in the form of her male housemate who had little to wear.

" _Mmmmmmmmmmmm!_ "

He – being Ragna – had taken up swimming as a hobby (alongside whatever else he did to pass the time).

The city turned into a giant cold province, but that wasn't going to stop the guy from heading out into the frozen tundra in nothing but... his... swimwear... .

 _What the heck is wrong with him?_ He must've been hanging around Bang, she reckoned. Surely! It had to be overzealous ninja's fault; his bizarreness rubbing off on the male. No way Ragna would have considered going outside in a snowstorm barely dressed. _He's not that crazy... I think?_

Kokonoe didn't realize the maverick approached her, trying to grab her attention.

He was just there, decked out in his red swimming shorts, Dead Spike hoodie, and sandals of the same colouring.

Purely by (dallied) reflex did the genius whip her head around at last. She recalled feeling 'something' poke her shoulder multiple times, but her mind was tuned to modifying the Thermal Regulation Unit to give the 'disturbance' any real thought. Until the prodding persisted and created a ripple in her flow.

Ready to switch and give 'whoever' a strong tongue-lashing, Kokonoe expected to have the annoying matter addressed quickly and get back to the task at hand.

What she didn't expect, however, was to spin her head and meet a set of washboard abs.

 _God you can grind meat on those_. Her tongue slipped through and licked her lips. Recalling the musculature of his body was enough to make her salivate, and have her tails flail from excitement. She felt like Tao over a dish of meat buns, it was ridiculous.

Her mind had lagged like a piece of old hardware. After recovering from its buffering – thought process escalating and running back at normal speeds – only then did Kokonoe analyse the details of Ragna's body.

His hoodie was unzipped; her sharp eyes assimilated the appetizing picture of taut muscles and contours layered by warm ivory flesh.

Her gaze started upward, notifying the pronounce of his clavicle – evenly lined – before her focus was firmly grasped by the bold, black birthmark below his neckline at the centre of his chest.

Pectorals; strong and sizeable, though not muscle-bound. Then keen amber eyes scanned the lean definition of his abdominal muscles - perfectly symmetrical six pack guarded by firm oblique muscles tightly knitted together; intricately woven.

Then came the prominent v-cut line, the narrowing trail working its way past the belt line down to-

 _Stop it stop it stop it!_ Chest hot and stringent, heart thumping hard.

Wasn't the first time she saw him shirtless; body looking hard when it was evidently relaxed. While she conceded that his physique was impressive Kokonoe hadn't taken a deep interest in Ragna's physicality, nothing beyond the realm of 'statistics of physical ability' for scientific purposes.

Since they started living under the same roof the numerous exposures of bare skin had slowly but assuredly seized her brilliant and eccentric mind. She had been entrapped by a superlative passive ability that she was outright certain the maverick was oblivious to.

 _Light my damn fire why don't cha_ , Kokonoe's feline persona was the embodiment of her instinct, and when the cat felt aroused by the sight of a bare bod Ragna, 'she' decided to take the reigns and influence their body's responses.

So thoroughly enticed, and trying hard not to make a scene and embarrass herself, she failed to hear Ragna when he spoke to her. Seeing his mouth moving she dumbly nodded her head with the half-hearted implication that she acknowledged his words, all while trying to fight off her building 'heat'.

Both her mental and vocal impediment stayed even as he began to walk away, and with her thoughts elsewhere the hybrid hadn't realized the proficiency of her deft handwork dropping as her hands, through independent action, worked on the unit.

One mistake was all it took for the unit to breakdown and leave the house without central heating.

She hissed.

The sudden feel of the temperature wasn't lost on her, and the rapid intrusion of outdoor coldness had her flesh flaring with goosebumps, nerves jittery as a sign of her body quickly losing both means of internal heat.

There was no way the house could've, **should've** , gotten cold as fast as it did, so like lightning Kokonoe bolted for her bedroom, where she was now curled up underneath a duvet that wasn't helping much.

 _Useless_. She had the mind to tamper with and give the bed cover a cold resistance feature... though not any time soon, unfortunately.

...

As the child of two historically world-renowned figures, one of whom was, and still is, revered as the most powerful magic user and true Magician recorded in recent history, Kokonoe (who inherited her mother's exceptional gift) should've implemented a subset of Fire magic to warm herself up.

No?

" _Hrrrrm_."

Well... while she has the ability to do so, she was stuck in her avid ways of neglecting magic, only resorting to the phenomenon under extreme circumstances. In doing so the hybrid's casting time wasn't up to snuff.

"Keh."

Wasn't slow... but, it wasn't fast; the fastest it should be.

With the necessary prep time – or the insight of an occurrence – she could revise the steps and have a necessary spell on standby, casting it when the time called for it at the speed of a hardened mage.

But the mix of her sex lit aflame and attempting to fight off the cold because TRU was down, was not an occurrence she saw coming.

A clear mind was absent, so she lacked the stability to use the derivative of the elemental art, let alone trigger her own Magic Circuits to go through the steps of casting.

"Haaaaaa." She exhaled.

To think, Professor Kokonoe Mercury, top officiated scientific genius and one of greatest intellectual minds of the current day and age... reduced to a weak and brittle mess due to cold reception.

How the might have fallen.

* * *

Fighting the cold was a recurring past time of his.

Ragna had to deal with it often enough that he worked up a nifty tolerance to anything related.

Barely fazed nowadays, so it didn't matter to him when he decided to go out into the city in his swimming attire, trekking all the way over to the new indoor swimming pool. No doubt a bizarre thing to do, however, Ragna was a man known for being reckless.

Some people would deem his decision suicidal. **Some** , because there are folks in the world who liked to live on the edge and be eccentric. Unlike commonplace individuals, the adventurous lot will see idiosyncratic tendencies and battling the harsh element as a 'test of mental grit' and not a case of masochism.

 _The pool's gonna be cold anyway so I might as well go as is_ , was his thought process.

Sound logic.

A tolerance he may have, but that didn't constitute to the maverick's desire to endure the cold on a daily basis, like the people of Akitsu-Kou for example.

Or his brother (if the blonde law enforcement Major wanted to live with **frostbite** on a daily basis then by all means, let him).

He liked warmth, most notably when he hit the hay. mayn't of had the luxury of being picky with his living arrangements when he was gallivanting the world, but now that he had his own place of residence, he didn't have to face that issue.

Until now.

Thankfully he had the brilliant foresight to have extra bedspreads stacked away in case a situation arose. Like the prospect of someone staying the night, or a pink-haired housemate messing up the central heating because of her abusive tinkering habit.

 _Had a feeling she'd go and screw something up eventually_.

Making his way to the cat-girl's room – extra blankets in arms – he figured he'd spare the restless feline of her torment (the provision of thermal insulators was bound to keep the woman locked up in her room till she was ready to come back out; hibernating like a cat in wintertime).

 _She's already a heavy sleeper_. Fifteen to twenty hours of undisturbed sleep was about to get higher, he was certain.

Ragna stopped in front of a blackened steel coloured door. Stainless, sturdy, manageable, and with a big sign bolted to it.

 **"I OWN ARMAMENTS AND A BLACK HOLE. TRESPASSERS WILL BE ANNIHILATED!"**

The only people liable to 'annihilation' were those outside of Kokonoe's circle of friends (so a lot people).

One person and one person only managed to invade the privacy of her room – and that scenario led to the cat and 'rat' ensuing chaos that nearly brought the house down.

Ragna sighed, _Why can't those two just get along?_

Opening the door via retinal scan (she didn't wanna take any more chances) Ragna entered. As per usual it was dark; blinds shut, and neon pink and blue lights lit the room with.

Kokonoe had the biggest room, but it was made to look smaller and more compact due to the load of furniture and personal effects she had.

Large shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with volumes of manga, anime, DVD box sets, and scientific novels here and there. Free wall space – including a discernible spot he knew led into her closet – were home to coloured posters and wall scrolls of fictional characters from mecha, cyberpunk and shounen genres as well as some from gaming franchises.

"What is it with her and 'Tanks'?" he wondered, eyeing a game character in particular.

Ragna didn't fully understand Kokonoe's fascination with the character type, after all he wasn't a gamer. But he'd chalk it up to the similar character types all being geared up with heavy artillery.

Not all of them were 'meat shields'; a few were on the lighter side, such as the purple clad female and a blue-skinned woman armed with a gun and wearing beachwear.

 _A sharpshooter and swimsuit model?_

There were a couple of spacious work stations – one used for tinkering with gadgets and the other tech, and the other a large desk with a leather swivel chair, occupied by a triple CPU screen monitor and a desktop PC that Kokonoe made from scratch. Notepads, stationary, magazines and a laptop were also found.

The only thing that didn't fit the tone was a framed photo of them, 'RaKoLa & Chō' as it was named. A nice picture that'd been taken without their notice (a mystery still yet to be solved).

An entertainment system consisting of a wide flat screen, surround sound and a large unit home to a number of gaming consoles, controllers and games.

All around, placed on flat surfaces, were collectible figures of characters from games, and a popular media collective franchise.

By memory Ragna eyes fell on the location of one in particular. A male figure, with white hair, dressed in red and black. He didn't understand why a comparison was made between him and the figure; it took Kokonoe explaining why she likened them to one another.

("You both both know how to cook.")

("Is that all?")

("Antisocial at times.")

("Kay...")

("Got a knack for surprising people with something ridiculous.")

("Uh... alright...?")

Then there was the matter of weapons.

("This guy's got two swords.")

("Naturally... why?")

("I've only ever use 'the' one.")

("True. But he can make those babies oversized like that keepsake of yours.")

And to end it off.

("Oh yeah, he uses a bow too.")

("A bow?")

("For firing projectiles.")

("... Kokonoe... I don't fire projectiles.")

("Heh, ha-ha-ha! Ragna, you ARE a projectile.") – He still didn't know what that meant.

In conclusion, Ragna and this character were alike in more ways than one apparently.

"What are you doing here?" Ragna turned to the king sized futon.

"Emergency provision," he walked over, setting the piled bedspreads on the floor. "How're you holdin' up?"

No answer, just shuffling. A shrug on his part.

One by one Ragna unfolded the bedspreads and covered the cat-girl with more layers.

"This'll do." Patting the spot where her body lay hidden beneath.

The moment his back was turned he a felt a fleeting gust hit him from behind. Before he could respond he was yanked backwards – sandals flying off his feet – into the hybrid's bed, covered, and wrapped up by arms, legs, and pink tails as the feline gal cuddled him.

"What gives!?" Keeping hold she moved more of her weight on top of him, moulding her frame to his. Snug.

"You're staying here." She told him with a steady tone.

"Let go will ya, I need-" Amber eyes shone through the dark space under the duvet; critical, inspecting him for any defiance.

"You-are-staying-here." She repeats, forceful and enunciated.

 _Good grief_ , breathing out a sigh of defeat, Ragna relented.

A squint, a glint, and then the piercing light waned, fading to black (he could've sworn he saw her cat-like smile also).

He was trapped, victimized to the woman's possessive hold and... grinding.

 _Guess I'm stuck here_ , afternoon plans thrown down a slope and into a dark depth. He'd have to settle for being the cat-girl's snuggle buddy.

"Could you stop moving so much... like that."

...

"Kokonoe!"

* * *

The sight of snow bedazzling.

A magical show of white particles that captivated the blonde girl.

The wintry chill may agitate others, but for Lambda, who was rarely exposed to snowfall, the awe factor superseded any discomfort she would've felt.

She would've liked to go outside, but opted against it. There wouldn't be much enjoyment to be had if she was swallowed up in the storm and saw nothing but white all round, unable to tell where she was or where she was going.

"The Thermal Regulation Unit is inoperative." She noted, having felt the lack of heating that permeated the house sometime ago.

Kokonoe was the one who developed the unit so it stood to reason that she'd be able to fix her own invention.

Walking down the hall with light-footed steps Lambda coursed her way to the cat-girl's abode.

Dismissing the warning sign – "Irrelevant" – she had her eye scanned for approved entry.

Not the seeing the hybrid in her general spots, Lambda looked toward the bed to see Ragna, fast asleep.

"Prrrrraaaawwww," and to hear a smooth, timely purr coming from the bed.

On one hand, she considered the likelihood that they were sharing the bed for the sake of sharing heat, the multiple bedspreads an added convenience. On the other...

"Snuggles," she whispered, a twinkle in her eyes.

Lambda liked to cuddle... but she liked to snuggle more.

"Snuggles."

Treading lightly over to the bed she peeled back the bedspreads and slipped under, covering herself up and snuggling the snoozed male form beside her.

"... Lambda?" Came Kokonoe's voice, alert and slightly heightened from surprise.

"Yes." She answered at once.

...

"... Snuggle up some more."

Finding the instruction most acceptable, the blonde did so, an arm and a leg making contact with the cat-girl who stretched her limbs further across Ragna's body.

* * *

 **Mugen7: Finally got this uploaded; hope it came out alright.**

 **New Cross Tag Battle trailer upload by ASW – looks and sounds great (even if I didn't understand a word of it). But it's great to hear the English dub again alongside the new voice cast that were in the later vids.**

 **Clear that a number of fans are shocked that Ruby thanked Hazama for whatever reason in the trailer (must've promised her a lifetime supply of cookies in exchange for her help, sweeten the deal to coerce her into helping him for sure. Heh, won't know until the game's finally launched). And it jokes how excited she gets; fawning over Ragna's sword like the weapons fanatic she is.**

 **Character models for the Online Lobby are damn _adorable_... Ahem... (I wasn't gushing...)**

 **Anyone get a UBW vibe 42 seconds into the trailer, or was that just me? Seeing Ragna in that wasteland made me think immediately of Archer/EMIYA (especially considering their prominent colour scheme) – couldn't help but laugh at that.**

 **(** **I** **nteresting last words at the end of the trailer...)**

* * *

 **Extra**

* * *

...

There was no Lambda.

There was Ragna.

Lambda wasn't in her room.

Nor Ragna in his.

But they were still in the house, this he knew. So with a strong nose he followed their trail all the way to Kokonoe's room.

"Arf!" Making his presence known a red light lit on the retinal scan.

[Canis Supra... Hype Dog, Chō-kun.]

"Arf!" The red light blinked.

[Access denied.]

Chō wasn't like most dogs. He was a Hype Dog, one who had more brains than the average Hype.

"Arf!"

[Access denied.]

He's been through this song and dance before.

"Arf arf!"

[Access denied.]

No matter what measures were taken, no matter the warnings and the contingency plans that were put in place.

"Arf!"

In the end, it didn't even matter. The large canine would get in eventually.

"Arf arf!"

[Access Denied.]

"Arf-arf-arf!"

[Acess Denied.]

"Arf!"

And all he had to do was keeping barking away.

[Access-]

" _Arf!_ " Giving a 'look' that had the voice pause; one incomprehensible with those beady black eyes of his.

[... denied.]

...

" _Aaaaarf!_ "

[...]

 ** _\- Eyebrow raise_. **"..."

...

[... Access... granted.]

He yipped, tail wagging happily (he always won).

Running into the room the dog wasted no time in burrowing under the covers, shuffling on top of the three individuals before dropping his full weight on them.

"For god sake how do keep getting in?" Kokonoe was far from pleased about being disturbed.

"Arf arf! Hah-hah-hah-hah."

"Hello Chō-kun." Lambda stroked the canine.

Not up to reprimanding their loyal and hyperactive canine companion, Kokonoe let him be.

"Fine," wriggling under his weight. "Just keep it shut. Otherwise I'm blasting you with a fireball."

"Arf!" Agreeing to the term.

"Not too loud Chō-kun."

"Arf."

They were all huddled up under blankets. They may not have central heating for time being, but they could all agree physical contact was the next best thing.

It was gonna be a long week everyone.

... ...

...

"... Why is everyone on top of me?"

* * *

 **Mugen7: Thanks for reading - L8r.**


	5. Cosplay (Super)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Cosplay; Super**

* * *

Another year –

"Con book?"

"Check."

"Schedule?"

"Check."

– Another convention to attend.

"Badge, Magi-Cam, seithr charge, phones, snacks, and Planar Haze?

"Check, check, check, check, check, and check."

Her first time was a surreal experience; hearing people make bizarre references and mimic particular phrases so casually was a shocker.

Migrating from the comfort of her own zone to a place which spent the entire length of its duration focusing on anime, manga and various pop cultural works; in the beginning she hadn't expected much – she didn't know people who shared her interests to mingle with and she didn't think said interest was notably popular amongst others.

Boy was she wrong.

She never expected the community to be as large as it was. It was as if she took a trip through the Boundary and wound up in a brand new reality altogether; one entirely disengaged from the everyday life and movement of her world (by the grace of Blue it was not the case, otherwise she would've conducted herself in a way that could only class her as criminally insane in the eyes of 'normal people').

"Got the transport tickets?"

"Yes."

"Cool; and I've got the cash."

"... Perhaps it is wise that I handle our money?"

"Please," waving off the suggestion. "I think I can handle our money just fine thank you." She ignored the deadpan look set on her.

Budgeting was very important; rather than exercise prudence in the management of her money the cat-girl was as imprudent as a con-goer hooked on their addiction. The atmosphere generally forced her to bypass logic and go on to make as many irrational buys as she possibly could (hence the state of her room), only stopping once she realized she was dead broke – and the next payday was often a long way away.

"If you say."

"I do."

She wasn't one for crowds, and despite being a gathering of like-minded people Kokonoe kept to herself mostly, teleporting herself to different sections of the designated location every time her whereabouts, at the time, started to overpopulate even more, hence the reason she always brought her Armament No.6 along; a necessary tool for avoiding tight situations.

"Lemme check your clothes."

This year she was bringing Lambda with her; the two of them cosplaying as characters from an all-time popular series that had a new game launched sometime back.

"Yep, yep, mhm, nice..." it was the blonde's first time at a convention and she wanted her to look the part. "Looks great."

Lambda wore a denim blue vest and skirt with a belt, navy blue tights, brown boots and a black shirt with white sleeves underneath her vest.

"You got the blue contacts I handed to ya?" At the mention of contacts Lambda pouted.

"Do I have to wear them?" She didn't like the idea putting stuff on her eyes, harmless or not.

"Yes." She answered with finality.

Lambda drew out a long sigh, "Okay."

Taking a step back Kokonoe placed her hands on her hips and struck a pose, "How do I look?"

The basic design of her attire was the same as always; this time however her modified Kaka coat was coloured in red and teal blue segments – with one sleeve each dedicated to one colour – and her red Capri pants had been switched for black ones.

There were notable additions to her appearance; such as her nails being painted black, arms dressed in black sleeves, a gold ring worn on her middle finger, and her hair – spared from its ponytail – was free flowing; wild and curled instead of straight.

Lambda gave her a thumbs up.

"Great," shimmying out of her stance. "Grab your bags; it's time to-" Kokonoe stopped mid sentence at the sound of the front door opening.

"Hey, anyone... home...?" Ragna stepped into the foyer, examining the two women and taking notice of the bags and other accessories on their person. "Goin' somewhere?"

While Lambda stayed quiet, Kokonoe stepped up to the blonde male, studying his clothes.

A black vest and loose cargo pants with steel-toed combat boots, and a high collared indigo jacket with silver plates on the sleeves.

 _Well how about that_. The clothes weren't exactly the same, but in her mind, they were close enough.

Ragna raised his eyebrows, edging away slightly from the hybrid, "What's with the look?"

"Come 'ere." She yanked him towards her by his vest.

"Hey!" Kokonoe licked her hands and brought them up, combing her fingers through his hair. "That's spit!" He exclaimed.

"Hush." She chastised.

Working the finishing touches the cat-girl stood back and admired her quick handiwork.

The man's already spiky blond hair was slicked back with saliva, set upright even further and made to, somehow, look more sharper – and the pointed bangs that usually fringed his face were driven away; now only two thin long strands of hair hung down.

"Whatcha think?" Kokonoe asked Lambda, who blinked.

"... Super."

– _**Clap!**_ "Brilliant, you're comin' with us."

"Wait, what?"

"Lambda you go pack another suitcase and I'll call my contacts to get another ticket and badge ready."

"Hold on just a-"

"Five minutes people; let's move it!"

As the two woman hurried to different points in the house, Ragna was left standing in the foyer; lost and confused as to what was happening and where he was suddenly set to go.

"... And I just got in."

* * *

 **Mugen7: Somethin' I just recently put together after watching _Anime Conventions: An Honest Guide_ by Gigguk on YouTube (Check out his vids) - the inspiration behind this chapter.**

 **There's actual artwork of Kokonoe in the attire I described, which can be found on _SwordwaltzWORKS_ 's DeviantArt page; the owner of the particular picture.**

 **Anyways that it for now; as always if ya made to the end, thanks for reading - L8r.**


	6. Foul (A Green Dose)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Foul; A Green Dose**

* * *

It was a possibility – small, but one bound to happen.

"Drink it."

"No."

It looked green, _smelled_ green, and without a doubt, would _taste_ green.

" _Drink it_."

" _No_."

It was her own fault really – wasn't unusual for her to forgo sleep in favour of finishing up interesting work or watching or playing whatever had the privilege of gaining her undivided attention, but when she did sleep (12 to 16 hours, more on occasion) it was generally when she fully exhausted herself (sometimes you know ya need to sleep but just refuse to because... well, reasons) – however her hours awake often exceeded her time asleep.

"Kokonoe-"

"I said no dammit!"

There was also the matter of not eating properly from time to time. When she was on a sugar high she tended to neglect nutrition.

"Just-"

"Get that crap away from me Ragna!"

Serious fatigue and high blood sugar (no surprise there), the reason for her pallor and weariness and eventual collapse (it's _amazing_ she doesn't have diabetes).

After receiving a serious lecture from Litchi, extreme actions were taken.

One; _all_ sweets were banned.

Two; she was start a diet of superfoods – _all green_ superfoods.

"Litchi was clear about this."

She scoffed, "Like she knows anything."

"Yeah," Ragna deadpanned, "because a certified doctor with a medical degree, years of experience, and one who happens to own her very own clinic, _the best in the city_... doesn't know jack."

"..."

"The same doctor who knows your health status like the back of her hand and has been your GP for how long now?"

 _ **\- Mumble mumble.**_

A smoothie was made for her so that the greens would be 'easier' to swallow.

"Open up."

"Forget it," she made a face. "It's gross."

Like dealing with a child – a picky eating child who didn't know what was good for them.

"I didn't wanna do this, but..."

She foreboded trouble at that moment.

"Lambda," Ragna called.

"Yes?" Said answered, appearing from out of nowhere.

"Take her down."

"What?" Kokonoe was suddenly alarmed when the blonde proceeded to subdue her. "How- why are you so freakishly strong!?" She cried.

"Spinach." Was the blonde's short answer.

Quickly and with a lot of ease Lambda had her pinned down – sitting on her torso and using her thighs to lock the cat-girl's arms at her sides.

Kokonoe struggled with meaningless attempts.

"Grrrrrr... Ngh! _Nnnnngh_! Get _off of me_!" Lambda didn't budge.

"Open your mouth." Ragna ordered, the small glass of green smoothie in sight.

Kokonoe shook her head in defiance, clamping her mouth shut and locking her jaw.

"Suit yourself," he said, shrugging. "Lambda."

The red-eyed girl used her fingers to pry open Kokonoe's mouth, applying pressure to key points to relax her jaw.

" _Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm-aaaagh -_!"

Pried open Ragna kneeled –

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-hhh!"

And poured the green liquid into her mouth.

She gurgled, and had her mouth closed, which Lambda then massaged her throat to trigger a swallow reflex.

Heavily groaning, she scrunched up her face – souring at the foul-tasting green concoction.

Lambda removed her hands.

" _God_... why is it so _bitter_?"

"Because it's green." Answered Ragna.

She was so disgusted.

 _ **\- Poke poke**_ **.**

Lambda grabbed Ragna's attention, holding out her hands together.

"Right," he walked into the kitchen and brought something with him upon return. "As payment for the assist, one large sprinkled donut."

Kindly and eagerly taking her colourful payment, Lambda ate the ring-shaped treat with gusto, cheeks puffed out as she nibbled like a cute hamster. Face lit, the blonde sparkled.

Kokonoe wept, a sad yet laughable sight to behold.

"You're gonna be drinking those at least three times a day from now on." Said Ragna.

More tears.

"Don't be so dramatic. Litchi said if your health improves you can have sweets again. A _limited_ amount of course."

Her cat ears perked up.

"How long will that take?" She asked him.

He shrugged. "Dunno. All on you really."

She deflated.

"... Where are you going?" Noticing the man put on his jacket.

"Headin' over to the market; buy some stuff for dinner."

Kokonoe was afraid to ask, but did so anyways.

"What are we having?"

"Super Noodle Ramen," he answered her.

She lightened up a bit. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"With kale." He added.

Then immediately paled. _MORE green?_

"See ya later."

With the man gone, Kokonoe turned toward the blonde who was still sitting on her body, happily nibbling on her donut.

"... Can I have some, please? Just a little?" She begged the blonde, hoping for something delectable to override the vile taste on her tongue.

"..."

"...?"

"... Nom nom nom."

Kokonoe sighed, exasperated. How was she to survive without her sweets, she wondered.

 _Damn it all_ , she cursed, dreading the night's dinner, and the every daily meal from then on. _I'm doomed_.

She _really_ hated greens.

* * *

 **Mugen7: Watched the _Next Level Battle Circuit_ for CTB on the Team Spooky channel earlier; over two hours of fun. Fights were great, but in the end, Weiss/Nu (Method Flux) proved to be the top duo, with Yu/Ruby (Grover) second and Ruby/Weiss (Diaphone) third.**

 **Anyways, L8r.**


	7. Cool (Cucumber)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Cool; Cucumber**

* * *

Everything for the lunch meal prep had been laid out.

Hot, but he was calm and relaxed, untroubled by the heat that filtered the kitchen dining room.

It was a race against time, and he was well accustomed to combating the clock.

"Alright."

Ready. Set. Go!

Fire on, he upped the flames to full blast, heating a dry pan.

Setting the timer he unloaded two teaspoons of different seed spices into the pan and let them toast – 2 minutes.

Swiftly he stepped over to the countertop and swiped the waiting knife, using the slender cutting tool segment four peeled shallots with quick slices; clean and precise.

Finished, he compiled the fine pieces and let them sit. Setting the knife off to the side he moved back over to the stove and controllably shook the pan, swivelling the contents around (the sweet and spicy and pervasive aroma soon peaked).

 _ **\- Beep! Beep! (Click!)**_

Fire down, he removed the pan from the stove and smoothly emptied the seared spices into a mortar. Pan back on the stove he held the hard stone bowl with a firm grasp and pulverized the botanical ingredients with the pestle, grinding and circling them into a mixed blend.

Done with, he put the pestle and mortar aside and went back over to the stove. Grabbing a glass bottle of oil, he poured the liquid into the pan and turned up the heat, waiting for a light smoke before sliding the shallots in to fry – 10 minutes.

 _ **\- Beep! Beep! (Click!)**_

Next, two powdered spices. A pinch of each into the pan alongside the blended seeds, he started to mix it all together with the onion variant until everything was infused together – 3 minutes.

 _ **\- Beep! Beep! (Click!)**_

Fire off, he lifted the pan and vacated the new mixture onto a plate and left it to cool.

After sending the pan into the sink he grabbed a couple slices of rustic bread and dropped them into a bowl of ice cold water to soak – 15 minutes.

Locations memorized, he grabbed a straight peeler with one hand and used to other to grab-

"...!"

 _ **\- Grab... – Grab grab.**_

Nothing.

 _Hm?_

Turning, he looked to the place on the worktop where a certain gourd crop was _supposed_ to be.

"Where...?"

Left? Right? Down, on the floor perhaps (though unlikely)?

"No..."

He knows he put it where he wanted it to be, so why wasn't it there?

"Hey, have you three..." He switched to consulting the three individuals who were found in the dining half of the room, hoping to get an answer.

Which he did... only...

"WROOOW!"

It all happened so fast. From the loud feline cry to the sound of a chair being jerked, the table jumping, a loud thud – all were linked to what came speeding at him.

As soon as he turned, he witnessed the sudden act of panic and primal reflex of the pink-haired woman who zipped through the air and barrelled into him.

" _Haaaaaaaaaaaagh-ssssssssssssss_!" She made a drawn out threatening hiss.

Latched onto him – nails, turned sharpened claws, digging into his body – Kokonoe climbed; scurrying up and around until she was behind him. One leg over his shoulder and her body rested and arched over his head.

Gathering his bearings after the abrupt impact, he looked towards where the cat-girl had come from.

At the table, a set of fingers and paws held onto the wood, and peaking over the edge were two heads; innocent and unblinking eyes - beady black and bright red - stared at them.

And in his peripheral, found nearby the two not-so-criminal looking duo, was the missing ingredient. A large cucumber.

Cucumber. (Cat)girl. Cucumber. (Cat)girl. Cucumber. (Cat)girl. Cucumber. (Cat)girl.

"... Lambda... Chō?"

"Mm?"

"Arf?"

He just knew that this (whatever 'this' was) had been a joint effort.

"You wanna explain?"

The dog and blonde regarded each other with a brief glance before looking back at him.

"We were curious." Said Lambda.

"Arf!" Said Chō, likely saying 'curious'.

"About?"

Another short glance at the other before looking back.

"If cats are really afraid of cucumbers."

"..."

Whether entirely Lambda's eagerness to know something or their canine companion in fact being on the same wave length as the blonde, or neither, the two hadn't conducted the experiment as some sort of joke or mischievous act...

They were genuinely curious.

But did they have to test the theory out on the cat-girl, he thought to himself.

"Look, if you wanna test a theory, fine. But don't involve Kokonoe, alright?"

"Okay."

"Arf!"

The cat-girl had yet to relax. She was still hissing, glaring at the inanimate veg/fruit; sharp eyes so lethal in their gaze that if they had the power they'd blast the cucumber out of existence a stare alone.

"There, there." Reaching up with his free hand, Ragna consoled the restless hybrid by gently stroking and scratching the space atop her head, between her ears.

"Mrrrrrrrooooooowww." She meowed, slightly mitigated, but still _very much_ on edge.

 _ **\- Beep! Beep! (Click!)**_

That's right. He was still on the clock. He'd forgotten, and the pace had been disrupted from the fiasco.

He exhaled deeply. With Kokonoe not budging from her position, Ragna resumed his postponed task; the race against time dismissed.

"Guess I'll leave it for another time."

* * *

 **Mugen7: That's another outta the way.**

 **L8r.**


	8. Altered (Spirit Vine)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Altered; Sprit Vine**

* * *

 **[Rate L for Lime]**

* * *

There was always something to do.

Simple house chores, walking the dog, studying insects and botany, gardening, art, even the most mundane of tasks counted as doable.

Whatever it may be Lambda always managed to keep herself busy. That wasn't the case now though.

Everything and anything she could've possibly done or needed to do, the quiet blonde was on top of it all. There was nothing – _nothing_ – for her to do.

For the first time, ever, truthfully, Lambda was experiencing a brand new emotion. Boredom.

"..."

Her constant show of reticent behaviour might've led others to think 'boredom' was her default sentiment. They'd be wrong. The young blonde was simply on, standby, considering the next course of action to take when she wasn't occupied.

However no course meant nothing, and as she'd come to learn the hardest work of all was doing nothing. She was rapidly becoming more bored of being bored because being bored is boring.

"... ..."

In the kitchen, on a stool, leaning on the countertop with her arms crossed. Motionless. Face showing a sliver of a dreariness.

 _ **\- Sigh.**_

After much impediment she broke from her inert arrest and dove her fingers in the bowl beside her, listlessly fiddling with the silver-vine lollipops it contained.

 _?_

She leaned in closer.

Mixed in with the samey assortment was a type of candy unlike the others. Instead of the sky blue of silver-vine this one new variety was indigo, and blotched with patches of green all over, making it look like a miniature marble-sized earth.

She sat up and inspected the planetary-like sweet. Intuition told her that there was _something_ unique about the sweet that differentiated it from the collection of silver-vine in the bowl. She could have consulted Kokonoe about it, after all it was in her stash. But curiosity superseded reason and Lambda instead chose to try the new addition of candy.

It's not like it'd be an issue right? Kokonoe wasn't opposed to sharing her stuff with the blonde (donuts in particular).

"What's mine is yours" as the saying goes.

 _ **\- Blink**_ **.**

Removing the see through wrapping Lambda held the candy up, dead centre of her peripheral, a hairs breadth from her lips.

Sticking out her tongue she sampled it with an introductory lick.

Pause. Another lick.

Pause. Another lick.

Pause. Another lick.

... Then, she put the little ball in her mouth.

Sweet, watery, and, green – sour, bitter, and earth-like – but more-so sweet. A contest of strong flavours all in one little ball.

For several long minutes Lambda sucked – sucking flavours, swallowing juices, and rubbing the ball with her tongue. Lips puckered.

Then suddenly, the candy effervesced with a new relish unlike before. Different... _interesting_.

"Oh!" Her body was quickly becoming fermented by something – something disparate, fresh... _divine_.

She felt sedated and loose and uplifted, lighter than usual.

A mix of warm and cool washed over physically alongside powerful visual and auditory hallucinations that rapped her senses and knocked her up in the most stunning way imaginable to the blonde.

Body open and spirit free; mind expanding – it was as if she'd experienced an oceanic sense of connectedness with the universe.

Magical.

"Heh he~h," giddy and high. Slipping off the stool smoothly Lambda laid on the floor, facing up and looking toward the ceiling. Perceptions a distorted mess that scintillating sounds were accompanied by a multitude of sights. "A'haaa~."

She saw tasty donuts and pandas and pretty insectoid beings.

She saw Kaka kittens on shiny big cats in a galaxy of stardust and colourful spectral arrays, running across cosmic trails.

There were Pakumens and Terumens skipping cheerily with Tartars hand-in-hand.

And at the root of this mystical and illusionary happening, were goddesses. Beautifully acclaimed, purple-haired goddesses; extravagant, grand, sensual, and _so-very-tempting_.

"Pretty~." She said, all smiles and rosy cheeked.

Whatever kind of candy she'd eaten, it was extraordinary and therapeutic. The emotional healing the emotional high, she was above and beyond cloud nine. Her boredom done and gone (what even is boredom?).

"Hello~ Kakaaas. Hello~ Tartaaars." She waved.

With the appreciative loss, was something gained. A strong feeling of inner peace, and, _need_.

Warm and cool circled and grew, the former tracing its ways downward. Inbound.

Lowering...

Lowering...

Lower...

Lower...

Low...

" _Oh!_ "

* * *

It wasn't a sound that woke him. Rather, it was a feeling, one that garnered an involuntary response on his behalf.

In any other circumstance he wouldn't mind the reaction. But for some reason this involuntary response made him uneasy. The last time he felt like so (awkward and welcome as it was) was from a first time close encounter with his now-friend who he met in Shinatsu years ago, back when when their association was still fresh. Required _a lot_ of convincing on his part to clear up the misunderstanding (although if he were to be entirely up front about his edginess 'big and fluffy' wasn't the prime source for his stammering and heat driven, _response_ ).

He blinked rapidly a couple times, then, in one swift motion threw the covers off.

 _ **\- Swallow**_ **.**

Slowly, Ragna cracked his neck, looking downward to see a bright mop of blonde hair – the head of the person nuzzling his midsection.

 _What the...?_ He recognized them instantly, "Lambda!?"

Hearing her name called the young blonde rose up, crawling up Ragna's body and setting her bottom on his hips, legs bent at the knees and tucked behind.

"Mmmm, you're awake. Good." Her voice, Ragna noticed, had lost its methodical taste, and had been substituted for more of a raspy tone. "Hello, Ragna." She greeted, lips parted and moist.

While coming to terms with the blonde's shift in temperament Ragna started to take note of Lambda's new and, disarming, attire.

She was wearing a black, open stomach one piece swimsuit. Tight, fine lined, grandeur; she was being very open with her, advertisement.

Her right arm was dressed in a thin, sleek, black sleeve that doubled as a glove, and her right thigh was adorned with a black garter with white frills.

Red eyes, long admonished of their gem like quality were glazed with a soft, yet fervent haze.

Immoral. Assertive... Primal.

Lambda licked her lips, and smiled sultrily, faking innocence.

"Do you like it~?" giggling, she slipped the point of her index fingers beneath the fabric, tracing her way upwards and pulling the higher ends of the diamond shaped opening forward to show more of her already exposed breasts. "I bet you do~." Releasing the fabric the material snapped back into place – breasts covered except for their underside.

Lambda not once took her eyes off him, and Ragna became stiff as a board when a pair of soft, delicate hands slipped beneath his white shirt and begun caressing his torso – a mix of feathery and biting touches.

Whatever hidden persona lay hidden within the stoic blonde had bloomed, reasons unbeknownst to Ragna. The young woman's chasteness had be swapped for a personality facilitated by a hedonistic sense of purpose.

"Aw~, don't be so tense," she said, smirking whilst fingers traced the contours of his muscles.

"The hecks gotten into you?" Ragna breathed, his question blunt.

"Oh~ nothing," she answered. "Nothing. At. All."

"Coulda fooled me..." he paused as her hands travelled further, resting on his chest. "Not like this makes any sense... You feeling me up." He groaned.

"Why you would think otherwise?" Lambda leaned in. "A _man_ and a _woman_ , living together~," pressing down on him. "There's _bound_ to be a brew of, _tension_ , between us. Wouldn't you agree, Ragna?"

There was tension alright. It had build up more to a point where he hoped to high heaven she wouldn't moved backwards.

Her breath tickled his flesh, and the nerves in his right ear sparked once he felt her nip the shell. One hand removed and taking place on the side of his face, gently stroking it.

"I've always wanted to touch you. With my hands... my mouth... and then...," her next action caused him to flinch; trailing the length of his neck with one continual lick, "my tongue."

The increase in body heat betrayed his impression of cool composure, "I dunno what you're jacked up on but-" Eyes widened as he was immediately silenced by Lambda's lips pressing hard against his own, both hands now locking his head in a firm grasp.

Ragna was genuinely taken aback. He had never had a woman come onto him before, especially as a forceful as a Lambda had done.

She sucked his lower lip and gained access into his mouth, her tongue playing with his. His breath stilled from the sudden intrusion, and Lambda asserted more dominance, taking advantage of his shock.

Chest thumping in warning from the lack of breathing Ragna swallowed. Before he could push Lambda off his intentions were once again intervened when he experienced a weighty head-rush, eyes blurring and clearing not long after.

 _What the... heck!?_ Inhaling his air Lambda left him breathless as she drew away from him, rising up. "What...?" She anaesthetized him; that was the only explanation he managed to invoke for why he felt debilitated all of a sudden.

A mix of colours swam through his vision. Looking up at her, Ragna saw a dim compound of blues and greens around Lambda; a refreshing and balanced tone of calm and nurturing auras corresponding with her beatific smile.

The dampening of his senses reverted, body invigorated by a stimulating and fiery warmth that his blood rushed at an increased rate.

"Here." Grabbing a hold of his left hand Lambda lifted and held it to her right breast.

The colours were replaced with their respective opposites. Swallowed whole by a canvas of orange and red, a powerful association of expression and passion that encouraged the heat inside him to burn hotter.

He'd never seen her in this light before. Too busy entranced by the picturesque sight of Lambda hovering over him that he hadn't noticed she'd let go of his hand, the very same that still firmly grasping her breast.

With him distracted, Lambda softly dragged her fingers down Ragna's body, feeling his muscles flex and ease up the further she descended. When her fingers crossed a sensitive spot, electrifying the nerves all the way below the belt, Ragna snapped out of his scintillating absorption.

"WHOA!" He jolted, bucking his hips, bumping the blonde forward by making contacting with her crotch.

"Ah~!" She cried, blushing. Her smile brazen as red eyes treated him with a lascivious look. "Bad boy~."

Ragna cursed himself for failing to _not_ make any sudden movements.

"Hmm~," Lambda started to retreat, moving her rear to the one place Ragna _didn't_ want her to go. "Is it me, or is there a lot of tension right," further, "about," and further, " _here_?" He vocalized a low, throaty groan as the blonde sat on the erect bulge in his pants.

" _Fuck_." He ground out.

Lambda's lustful grin turned hungry, showcasing her canines, "If you insist." Moving with undulating hips she rubbed her nether against his hardness, working him up with her elegant motions.

"Gentle, or a bit more _rough_ perhaps?" He didn't answer. Gripping the sheets Ragna fought to contain himself as Lambda became more aggressive with her galvanizing, circling her hips and twerking on him, all with the intent to impel him into taking action.

She giggled, almost hysterically; breathing deeper and nails digging into his body, latent strength keeping him pinned down.

"Don't be like that. Come on, wrap your arms around me," Lambda beckoned, throwing her head back she laughed in glee. " _Rip_ this suit off, spin me around and _take me!_ "

In spite of regaining some level of feel in his limbs Ragna still lacked the strength to grab Lambda and push her off (then again him so much as laying a finger on the blonde would likely force her to misinterpret his intentions). The uncontrollable throbbing of his manhood, raised by Lambda's rough and sensual bump and grinds, was becoming very hard for a man of emotion such as him to bear. If he continued to resist the, _powerful_ , urge, then he'd be stuck with barely any functionality and eventually be brought to releasing a heavy load. If he gave in however, then he'd gain functionality in his limbs, but would _not_ be removing the wild blonde off his lap, but instead indulge the resonating sexual urge between them and, again, be brought to releasing a heavy load. As nice as the second option seemed, he didn't want to engage in a dalliance with the blonde when she clearly wasn't herself... or, was...? (He prayed for a third option; desperate for it).

"I want you to do things to me. Soooo many things." She expressed, pelvic thrusts coming forth with quick and vigorous bursts before switching to slow, joshing retreats.

Ragna growled, multiple happenings running to and from the muscles in his thighs. His sartorius twitched, his gracilis tickled, his pectineus hummed and adductors tingled.

And at most, a great deal pulsating heat coursing, converging in his manhood.

"Ah~, I want you to kiss me, kiss me all over! To bite me and pull my hair! Trace my spine, pin down, lick me! _Mark_ me! Tell me I'm a _good_ girl~, a _bad_ girl~! Make me moan, make me cry, don't stop even when I start sha-!?" Her lewd and unfeigned desire came to an abrupt hold.

Ragna studied her, happy for the pause but curious about its suddenness, "L-Lambda?"

Lambda's eyelids drooped and fluttered, a sign she was trying to keep her eyes open. "Ragna...," she said his name, the raspy tone fading and returning to its regular pitch, "I don't...," and a dizzy spell struck causing her to wobble, "I don't feel... right."

Now he was feeling concerned, "Lam-"

"HEY?" said a loud voice as the bedroom door swung open, showing Kokonoe with a scowl on her face. "Have you seen-?" question stopping midway as she looked at the sight before her.

"Ko... ko...?" Lambda turned toward the two-tailed woman. Hallucinations still in effect, though waning, the blonde saw the hybrid was aglow with pink, purple, red, and grey rays of light, and a series of one-eyed chibi cat heads with cute kitty smiles circling her own. "You... look..." the last of her energies went – Lambda fell over, collapsing on top of Ragna.

...

A single pink eyebrow quirked.

* * *

 **| Two Days Later... |**

"You brought a damn drug into the house?" Ragna groused, hand on his face.

After sleeping off the effects of the 'drug' for a whole day Ragna confronted the hybrid on the following.

"It's not a drug." Answered the cat-girl from her place next to him, sitting in her large beanbag out on the garden deck, eyes focused on the handheld game she was playing.

"What else causes a person's personality to do a total one-eighty?"

"It's called _Spirit-Vine,_ " She started. "A _medicinal_ remedy that, yeah, can alter a person's nature, causing a one-eighty... Wanted to test it." Leaving out the part that supervision was required for first timers.

"How'd you lose somethin' like that?" He enquired.

"I forgot I had it mixed in with a new batch of silver-vine." She shrugged, casual about her forgetfulness.

"Jeez." Ragna sighed, leaning back on his arms, exasperated. Troublesome as it were he was grateful that he only had to deal with nausea and vertigo (and fierce hard-on he hoped to chill with a cold shower and a packet of ice). Lambda on the other hand had to deal with chills, aches and sweats alongside disequilibrium.

"Wait..." he scrutinized her, "were you hoping to get high off that stuff or somethin'?" He asked offhandedly, but when a twin pair extremities stilled...

Gobsmacked, "Were you...-?"

" _Eep!_ " A squeak cut him off him.

The two turned around to see Lambda.

The blonde was wrapped up in a comforter, hiding her face from the nose down.

"Uhhhh..." This was the first he'd seen her since _then_. "Hey, Lambda." Ragna greeted.

"Hey, how you holdin' up?" Asked Kokonoe.

Lambda stayed mute. What was seen of her face became a red mess. She stood there like a deer in the headlights, eyes fixed solely on Ragna.

"Lambda?"

The girl fled back indoors as soon as he said her name. Clearly she recalled enough of the highlights of her alteration to turn into a quiet and shamefaced nervous wreck, and lord knows when she'd be able okay around him again, let alone utter a single word.

Back to square one it seemed, "Good grief."

The two household occupants sat in quietude, nothing but the sounds of the wind blowing, light breathing, and button mashing to fill their ears.

... ...

...

"... She a good fuck?" Kokonoe asked out of the blue, nonchalant on the surface.

"Drop it." Ragna bit back, not wanting to converse about what'd happened between him and the blonde.

...

"Did she make you _come_?"

"Shut. Up!"

* * *

 **Mugen7: About a month since my last update - apologize for the wait. B'n busy since the last chapter so didn't have the time to work on this till recently (took a bit of time to get back into the flow of things so further apologizes if grammar etcetera is off).**

 **Aaaaalrighty then -**

 **An actual image of Lambda's "disarming" attire does exist so, if you wanna see it, look up Hyakuhachi (Over3). For a quicker search just type in _lambda swimsuit hyakuhachi_ on Google and you'll get two instant links.**

 **Another image - the inspiration for this chapter - is a piece of artwork of Lambda called _Waiting for him_ by MadiBlitz, which you can find over on DeviantArt.**

 **The origin behind _Spirit-Vine_ comes from a traditional shamanic medicinal remedy called _Ayahuasca_ , otherwise known as _vine of the soul_ , brewed from several plants from the Amazon Rainforest; used for a number of purposes and, from the list I wrote when reading into it has... a lot of effects; description of them were mentioned in the chapter (though I wouldn't be surprised at all if there were more).**

 **Anyways that's it for the time being,**

 **Till next time - L8r.**


	9. Storm (Lullaby)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Storm; Lullaby**

* * *

… _!_

On the rooftop he heard a sound.

The violent pitter-patter of raindrops.

Unbound from the louring sky, the hefty fall pelted - abound and earthbound.

"Tsk!" Kissing teeth, a lengthy sigh followed.

He turned to face the window; sheets of water coasting down the panelled glass as white lights flashed through the sprints of lightning.

 _So much for wakin' up at a decent hour_. Drawling mentally, he turned away, focusing on the digital clock found on the bedside table; numbers glowing.

 _ **\- 03:00 AM**_ **.**

"Jeez." He had hoped turning in for an early night would be encouragement to wake up at a "fair" time the next day, but with the sudden event of a storm, he'd be lucky to drift off anytime soon.

In and out, his air came and went with languid breaths; head swaying side to side as he inwardly played the chill mix of a jazz instrumental to drown out the loud disturbance.

After several minutes of musical arrangement, he was still awake.

"Gimme a break will ya." The heavy rain continued its rounds with the aid of thunder and lightning.

Relenting, he sat up and got out of bed, trudging over to the bedroom door.

While he had no taste for it in the past, tea – of the herbal variety – had done well enough to calm his nerves and mitigate potential restlessness.

It would've definitely been of use to him years ago, he can admit that. By the by, he was happy his now fondness for it didn't borderline the obsession of a certain gothic blonde, otherwise he'd be joining her routinely for teatime, and he'd be damned if he gave the aristocrat something satisfactory to poke fun at him about.

 _She does enough of that shit already_.

Opening and stepping through, he made a hard turn and walked down the hallway.

Not very far, though.

"Hm!?"

Before him, on the floor, curled up in a bundle of loose clothing, was a small "thing".

Paralysed, yet visibly shaken up the harsh roar and echoes of thunder. Tiny whimpers barely audible.

"You're too quiet for your own good, kid," he muttered, pressing fingertips to his temple.

The small "thing", a child, dressed up in a Kaka hoodie. A full head of hair, similar in complexion to his own spiky mess, with a single blonde strand – acting like an antenna – between a pair of flattened cat ears.

" _Far_ too quiet." Most infants, when agitated, would cry out loud; the increasing volume high enough to draw any parent out of their slumber in due time.

But the little girl in front of him was different. If ever she were disturbed or needed him, the kitten would seek him out and gain his attention up front than call out to him from a distance.

"Lambda."

A natural born silent type. If not for the fact that the child could already speak, he would've suspected the blonde kitten to be a mute.

"Lambda!"

"Mew!" Like a startled cat, her head sprang up. Eyes moist with liquid beads of tears popping through.

He crouched down.

"Hey there kiddo," he spoke with a soft voice, partially coarse from the early wakeup call, still. "The storm wake you up too, eh?"

Bright ruby red shimmered; a wave of tears threatening to spill.

"Mew."

A warm smile traced upon his face of empathy.

"Come one," reaching out with his palms open, Lambda scurried into his grasp. "You'll stay with me tonight, alright?" Cradling the little kitten he felt her tiny hands grip his shirt through the long pawed sleeves of her hoodie.

"Mew." A yellow tail unfurled and coiled around his arm.

Forgoing his trip to the kitchen to make tea he headed back into his room and pushed the door shut with his barefoot, striding across and slipping back into bed with the scared little kitten against his chest.

 _ **\- Krrr'K!**_

Hearing the harsh precursory sound with her sensitive ears Lambda flinched.

 _ **\- BOOOOOM!**_

"MEW!" A high-pitched cry ripped through her small form. She shook uncontrollably.

Toned arms held the kitten protectively; a hand used stroke her head as his cheek rested atop her crown.

"Shhhhh, shhh," he sounded out with a hushed whisper. "It's okay, Lambda... It's okay." He felt the extremity of her distress. An unstable overture built to break out into a cacophony of fear; anxiety that may develop into a phobia if he didn't do something.

"You don't have to worry, kitten. Daddy won't let a mean storm hurt ya." He said, kissing her crown.

The infant had calmed down at the sound of his assertion, but it wasn't enough to ease her into slumber; lingering terror keeping its grip on her.

…

The natural phenomena had regressed. Thunders ceased, leaving the heavy rain behind with frequent flickers of light coming from the dark overcast.

He sat up with his back to the window, shielding Lambda from the outside flashes of light.

 _"The sky is dark and the hills are white –  
As the storm-king speeds from the north tonight...,"_

He circle rubbed her back,

 _"And this is the song the storm-king sings,  
As over the world his cloak he flings...,"_

and patted her bum in a rhythmic pattern, making the girl wriggle and moan before relaxing further.

 _"'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep',  
He rustles his wings and gruffly sings;  
'Sleep, little one, sleep'."_

He shifts her in his arms and cribs her like a newborn.

He keeps her close, looking down at her, as she – bravely opening her eyes – looks up at him. Red meeting green.

 _"On yonder mountainside a vine –  
Clings at the foot of a mother pine...,"_

With a finger he prods her cheek and light traces circles on it.

 _"The tree bends over the trembling thing,  
And only the vine can hear her sing...,"_

Her little fingers reach forth, and grasp his digit like a baby making contact for the first time.

 _"'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep',  
What shall you fear when I am here?  
'Sleep, little one, sleep'."_

Her tremulous chest and breaths dwindle; the sincerity of his voice aiding to assuage her worries more and more.

Terror loses its hold.

 _"The king may sing in his bitter flight,  
The tree may croon to the vine tonight...,"_

Her eyelids droop, and lips quiver before they part; small mouth opening for a quiet yawn.

He raises her up.

 _"But the little snowflake at my breast –  
Liketh the song I sing the best...,"_

Slowly, he lays down with her;

 _"Sleep, sleep, little one sleep...,"_

eyes of the kitten are once again closed.

 _"Weary thou art, anext my heart –  
Sleep, little one... sleep."_

…

Cleansed of fright and composed as calm waters,

Lambda fell to a restful sleep; his heart maintaining her repose.

"There were go," he sighed.

Pelting drops had waned to light showers as the weather neared to a flat calm.

Rarely did he need to give more of his time to tend to the little blonde. Part cat she may be, Lambda wasn't fickle; she was capable of retaining her focus and could be occupied for well over an hour doing her own thing until she needed him. The perks of having an independent child allowed for him to carry out his own tasks without much pause.

"All... tuckered... out..."

But if there was ever a moment she needed him; because of boredom, loneliness, uncertainty, confusion, or because she was scared.

 _Night... Lambda_.

In a heartbeat, he would sacrifice all the time needed to ensure his daughter was at peace.

* * *

 **Mugen7: Poem is _Norse Lullaby_ by Eugene Field.**

 **(And for Lambda dressed as a Kaka, look up Kuro Yuzu on Danbooru; should be on page 16.)**

 **L8r.**


	10. Change (Enlarged)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Change; Enlarged**

* * *

Ear-splitting and unceasing, the blaring siren of the alarm clock cripples the silence and assaults the sensitive ears of the half-beast, jerking her from her peaceful rest.

With a rough search her hand skirts the edge of the nightstand, then passes over till it touches the electronic device. She hits the 'dismiss' button with a hard smack, ending the disruptive noise.

Flipping onto her back, Kokonoe lets out a harsh groan and stares up at the ceiling with blurry eyes. She breathes in, then out - all through her nose - and yawns, stretching herself.

Her expression sours and nose crinkles; sinuses catching whiff of the unpleasant smell of morning breath, mouth gaping in a soundless gag.

Grasping the covers she throws them off, kicking at whatever remains at her feet, and rolls onto her front and forces herself onto her hands and knees - head hung.

Buttocks clenches from the scurry of tingling; tails wagging as the same sensation hurries down her back. After an incremental pause Kokonoe stands and stumbles off the low platform bed. Slow-moving she hobbles her ways to the bathroom, gathering her bearings whilst rolling her shoulders and arching her back - spine popping. A foreign heaviness at her chest disgruntles the cat-girl, however, drowsiness hardens her to pay it no mind.

Entering the washroom Kokonoe heads toward the sink, turning the tap and diving her head under the nozzle to rinse her mouth with cold water before brushing her teeth.

Toothpaste applied she lifts the brush, but her arm stops abruptly.

"Eh!?" eyes gradually become the span of saucers, and through sheer astonishment, the cat-girl cries out at what she sees.

* * *

Meanwhile...

Busy working in the kitchen, Ragna stands at the counter pouring a jug of buttermilk into a bowl of blended eggs and flour and whisks it all together to create a smooth pancake mix.

Afterwards he sets the bowl aside and puts a non-stick frying pan on the turned on stove.

Seizing a bottle of sunflower oil Ragna pours the liquid into the pan and smears it around with a folded paper towel sheet.

"So it's bananas, strawberries, and...?"

"Sprinkles!" Comes the jubilant voice of the female blonde resident who waits in the adjoining room, feverishly bobbing her and bouncing up and down on her seat cushion.

Ragna chuckles as he fills a ladle half full with the mix and empties it into the pan, and does so again, making two circles that he cooks on both sides for half a minute each. Once done the chef turns the fire down and spades the fried batters out and onto a plate.

He grabs a couple of bananas from a fruit basket and peels off the skin, setting the exposed fruit on a chopping board, ready to slice.

He takes out a knife from the rack and -

"EEEEEEEHHHH!" Heads whip round to the sound of an outcry.

A rush of footsteps and few crashes later and in comes Kokonoe speeding through the entranceway.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU SEEING THIS!?" She brakes in front of Ragna who froze in place, eyebrow raised and dumbstruck. Lambda, too, was as oblivious as him to the "this" Kokonoe was on about.

Before him, hands on her hips and a smile on her lips, Ragna sees a twinkle in the woman's eyes.

"Heh-heh-heh," she puffs out her chest. "Look!"

He does so, along with Lambda from her place into other room; eyes traversing down.

Her state of dress is exactly what they'd see her wear when in bed - an oversized t-shirt. So it puzzles the two when they realize that the front of the half-beast's loose garb isn't as flat against her as it normally would.

Parking the knife on the board Ragna turns around to face her completely.

"Those are...," his second eyebrows lifts, levelling with the first; an equipoise of shock and awe sinking in.

Far from the petit lumps ordinarily found, a new pair of sizeable mounds were prominent through Kokonoe's shirt.

"Those are-"

"Bigger!" The woman crows with delight, deferring Ragna's broken statement.

Snatching his hands she plants them firmly on her bosom.

"They grew they _actually_ grew!" ecstatic beyond belief. "Can ya believe it!?"

Ragna utters an "errr" shortly after the sound of a crack echoes from Lambda's direction. A dark and stormy chill emanating through.

If he was honest. No. He actually couldn't believe it (not that he was ever prompted to think about it, more than once). Like others Ragna was under the assumption Kokonoe had reached the end of her physical development. Young looking sure, but the man wasn't about to check her age for a second time; doing so was tantamount to deducing which colour wire diffused a bomb, and the cat-girl (more of 'cat- _woman_ ', now) had made it very clear - _very_ clear - that he not breach that topic of discussion again.

"A woman's age universally stops at eighteen", she told him last (he couldn't quite wrap his head around that). Nevertheless, it seemed someone still had room to grow all this time, and that someone was revelling in that establishment.

"Years - YEARS I spent thinking if they'd grow or not. I mean why shouldn't they, Mom had big tits so why not me!?"

Understandable. He's seen a few photos of the woman, and Konoe certainly had a big bust. And while she isn't equal to her mother, for a startling overnight growth... Magical forces had to've been at play, surely.

"I was always thinking I was a _really_ late bloomer but then I stopped when nothing changed," an overcast shadowed her face, the implication known to those present. "Figured my old man's genes screwed me over big time."

 _Clearly_. Anything in relation to her pops was a touchy subject. If ever mentioned or even hinted at, Kokonoe would either one-line or speak at length about him with all the sour and bitterness as citrus fruit could muster.

 _Same old, same old_. The overcast cleared and the half-beast threw her head back, guffawing.

"But in the end I was right I. Was. RIGHT!"

He never expected larger breasts would make her _that_ much joyful about life; everything else she found excitable paled in comparison.

The newly risen pair was like a call for the gospel. The woman shined so bright as though she'd been blessed; happiness skyrocketed into overdrive.

"I've gone from an 'A' to a 'C'. A ' _C_ ', Ragna!" she states, cackling.

"No kiddin'?" He murmurs. Not like he had a bleeding clue about the specifics of cup sizes. Small, Medium, Large, XL; that's typically how he identified them.

"I'm even bigger than Lambda now!"

 **- _CRACK!_**

The sound of wood being fractured came yet again, and the intense chill received an add of depression to its harshness.

Woebegone is the girl with the now inferior cup size.

"After years of waiting I _finally_ level up." Releasing Ragna's hands, at long last, Kokonoe fondles her bosom, admiring them as though they were a pair of invaluable possessions (which was a strong likelihood).

"I feel like I've grown taller - have I grown taller?" she uses Ragna to estimate her height. "Yeah, definitely; four inches." Is her quick, and unsurprisingly specific, assessment. "This just gets better!"

Ragna squints his eyes, drawn in thought. A man once said, "in times of rapid change, experience can be your worst enemy", and he was starting to feel apprehensive about what experiences could possibly be thrown at him with a pink-haired cat- _woman_ now invigorated with her new change (he just could not think of anything, and that's very concerning).

"AAAAAHAHAHAHAAAH! SUCK IT BEAST GENES, YOU'RE NOT GONNA BRING _ME_ DOWN!" Kokonoe declares, fanatical as she runs off whooping to high heaven and jumping around the house - sprightly - beside herself with joy.

Ragna sighs heavily, "Can't say happiness without boobs."

"I~HAVE~BIG~BOO~BS!"

His point exactly.

"In any case," he turns to the chopping board where bananas are waiting to be sliced. "Not gonna cook themselves."

But on a side note...

"Lambda." He speaks to blonde who at some point made her way up to him out of the blue.

"Yes?" She replies.

"... Mind telling me why my hand is on your breast all of a sudden?" He asks while quirking a brow, looking down at the girl to see that his left hand is, involuntarily, copping a feel of her breast - her hand holding his by the wrist.

Lambda doesn't answer him, choosing to, instead, act as oblivious as a fickle male who's impervious to a woman's flirtations.

"Just gonna keep my hand there, huh?"

No comment, and although he makes no open comment about it, the blonde's jealousy and covetous conduct could-not-be _any_ more clearer to him.

 _Guess I'm finishing breakfast with one hand_ , he'd be lucky enough to be afforded that, really. If Lambda's growing intent and secure, slight readable gaze was anything to go by, then...

 _Or, not...?_

* * *

 **Mugen7: Leaked Devil May Cry 5 story footage (which I'm sure by now has been deleted), and re-watches of DBZA ep.60 part 1, YGOAS ep.81, Trigun - Badlands Rumble and all original episodes, and Cowboy Bebop - amongst other shit - has-been- _distracting_.**

 **Managed to break away in the end and go for ten.**


	11. HBH (Trick, Treat, or Die!)

**RaKoLa**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: H.B.H; Trick, Treat, or Die!**

* * *

Bats, cats, and spooky scary skeletons that send shivers down your spine.

With the "death" of summer comes the fall of autumn, the overture to winter's chill. And with that fall comes dry maple leaves, whisked away through the early invite of inky black nights; bright white stars blinking on high, neighbouring a full blood moon, bold in the sky.

Once every year, energetic folk venture out to the streets. A late time of fun and sociability where flocks of youths bundle together and embrace the spirit of night-time mischief. Bombing houses with eggs, papering them with wads of toilet paper, and playing all sorts of tricks while going door-to-door under the cover of diverse and expressive costumes that hide their true visage.

This was not a fun occasion for one person in particular, however.

To them, the advent of All Hallows' Eve was a frightful occasion. A very frightful occasion where the efficacy of superstitions reached a newfound peak.

Superstitions are the poison of the mind.

Superstitions are the death of thinking minds.

Superstitions are the religion of feeble minds and also breed back luck.

Superstitions... are what kept Ragna home at night every year on Halloween.

"To the market, and back – MARKET... and back," he said as he walked back and forth in his room trying to stave off his anxiety and work up some nerve.

A guy like him could take on a band of thugs, wave upon wave of troops, a clowder of Kaka clansmen, and even best a musclebound bloke that weighed nearly ten time his own body weight. But the premise of ghosts or anything spectral that annually resurfaced this time of year; a sea of souls wandering the streets guided by the light of Jack-O'-lanterns?

"Th-This'll be... no problem," THAT is where he drew the line. After all you can't hit what you can't see, nor can you hit what you can't touch. "Piece of cake..."

This was the year he wanted to change all that – to finally step outside during night. To feel the fear and do it anyway.

"Okay, okay..." he took a few deep breaths. "Let's go." And grabbed his coat off the bed and left his room, stepping out into the hallway.

… The hallway was dark...

Awfully so.

Feeling troubled he swallowed. Hard.

The corridor was like a gaping void. No floor, no roof, no walls, and no end. Just an abyss.

"Get it together man," he took a step. "You can do this," and another... and another, and another till he moved with a steady pace. "One step at a-a time... You can this do."

He attempted to drown out all worries, focusing on nothing but the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

"Slow and steady, Rags..." he intoned, "slow and steady." The simple mantra served to help him feel more brave; supplementary controlled breathing to assuage stress.

 **"Aaaaaahh!"** He jumped, alarmed and falling flat on his arse.

"Wh-Wha... What the hell...!?" The mysterious brought him out in a cold sweat.

 **"Aaaaaaahh!"** came the voice again.

Ragna scurried forward and spun around, bolting to his feet. The enigma's ghostly howl staking claim to his composure; culling nerves with a haunting resound.

 **"HaAAAAAAHH!"**

 **"Aaaaaahh!"**

 **"HAAAAAAAAAHH!"**

 **"Ah- _oooooo_!"**

He stammered and stumbled but never fell twice. As he flees in a backwards rush he fumbles with his coat, struggling to feed his arms all the way through the sleeves.

"Who's there!?" Ragna exclaimed, his voice risen and high in pitch. "Show yourself dammit!"

His soul is in riot – indignation a front.

"Hurry hurry hurry" it yelled, "pull yourself together and find the light!"

"Where are you!?"

Backed further and further, in fear of the unknown, he was shook to the core.

They've come – they're hear – they found their way in; evil spirits had arrived to enter his soul! To invade and conquer!

"Like hell!" He screeched and held his breath on the believe that doing so warded them off.

 _'Wait...? That only works in cemeteries!'_ He released his breath, "Shit!"

– _**CrRREEEEeeeeaak!**_

Ragna stopped dead in his tracks. The floor creaking hadn't been his doing; he knew it in his gut...

Something else was close by.

…!

A light came up from behind him, it's feeble-like glow casting a shadow... But not his own.

The shadow looked homogeneous to something bipedal in nature. A strong silhouette with a cultivated outline dominated by hard, pointed edges varied with a slender and ruling frame.

Veeeery slowly, Ragna shakily exhaled through his nose, and cautiously turned; his brittle poise ideal for a weak and timid creature.

The shadow crept with a quickening pace. He heard a crunch, followed by more crunches – sounding crisp and wet.

His heart spiked and his temperature went into flux! Weakly he built up the whittled nerves of resolve and whirled around fast, arms raised at the ready!

– **_KA-BOOM!_**

" _AAAEEEEEEEEE_!" Ragna shouted with a startled, shrilly scream at the resounding clap of thunder. The hallway flashed over and over – its harsh brilliance embellishing a figure dressed in deep purple and magenta garbs, cloaked in a matching threadbare mantle with torn ends that gave off the appearance of large claws, and vividly coloured hair that flared down from beneath a pointed witches hat that had a split in the rim.

Before ending entirely the shortened flashes of light managed reveal a pair of potent and penetrative eyes, and a petite mouth smeared with...

 _'Blood!?'_ Was his "logical" assumption.

"What's your problem?" The figure spoke.

About to speak himself a pair of slim extremities waved out from behind the individual.

"Wha...?" Eyes went back and forth between squinting and blinking wide till he got a good look at the figure's face with the aid of stable lighting. "K-Kokonoe! What the hell!?" He indignantly yelled.

A scowl crossed the woman's features, "What do you mean _what the hell_? You're the one screaming like a little girl."

Ragna sputtered, taking offence, "I- I did not!"

"Fu fu fu," The half-beast smiled a cat-like smirk. "Riiiiiiight." She drawled, waving a candy apple on a stick; the apple coated in red syrup.

Ragna sighed, _'That's a relief... at least.'_ He conjectured, nonetheless still uncertain about the mysterious voices.

"You suddenly forget how to put on clothes the proper way?"

Baffled, Ragna looked himself over and noticed his coat had somehow been put on inside-out.

"Ara, does someone need 'Mummy' to lend him a hand?" The woman patronized.

"Get bent." Ragna replied, removing his coat.

Kokonoe turned smoothly and sashayed away, "You'd like that wouldn't ya?" She enquired, the implication not lost on the male.

"Perv," he tutted and re-wore his coat the correct way.

As he continued to head for the front door he found the cat-girl in the kitchen occupying herself with a bushel of apples and several cauldrons that each let out a steam in three primary colours.

 _'Well... she can certainly play the part.'_ He thought, not wanting to intrude on the woman's "witchcraft".

"Hoo!" Ragna paused in his step to a new sound that came from the kitchen.

"Hoo, hooo!" The clear sounding hoot repeated several times before it went quiet.

 _'I'm not even gonna ask,'_ he reached the front entrance and equipped his shoes.

He took a deep breath.

"Market and back," he reminded himself of his there-and-back travel. He was still anxious to go outside, but after having dealt with those mysterious voices and his scare from Kokonoe that made him look weak and pathetic –

"Tch," Ragna was sure the worst was over with. "Here I-" He flinched once feeling something poke him in the back.

He looked back, assuming the cat-girl, "What is-" only to find something white. " _Ghooooost_!" He shrieked in surprise and slammed himself against the door, cowering in fear.

"Trick or Tre~at!" said the ghost in singsong.

Ragna hesitantly turned his head, warily uncovering his face to look at the ghost suspiciously, "H-Huh...!?"

The ghost held out a Jack-O'-lantern shaped bucket, "Trick or Tre~at!" it said again; voice cheerful, young and feminine.

Despite the difference in tone Ragna recognized the voice. "Lambda!?"

The spooky girl bounced up and down, pushing the bucket towards him, "Give me candy~!"

 _'This is what I get for facing my fears on this damn night,'_ the universe was really testing his nerves. _'Gimme a damn break will ya.'_

"Ragnaaaa. Give me candyyy." Lambda persisted.

He rose up and studied the girl. All she wore was a white sheet over herself with eye holes he couldn't see through in the dark setting.

He laughed – amused that Lambda was making demands wearing such a simple (and effective) getup, "What are you gonna do if I don't?" He asked, playfully flicking her forehead.

… Lambda stopped moving, and the bucket fell from her grasp.

"Hmm?" She does nothing but stared at him. Concealed face making her illegible to understanding, but the black eyes holes gave off an eerie sensation.

"Uh... Lamb-" abruptly the white sheet flew up fiercely and Ragna felt himself pulled into the darkness. "Whoa!"

…

He was on the ground.

"Dammit...!" he pushed himself up to confront the girl who dragged him down. "What's the big i-..." right in front of Ragna was a face. Lambda's face, yet, not Lambda's face. "… dea...?"

Within a brief moment his heart skipped a beat. Blood runs cold as its drained from his face.

The young lass's face was pale. Stone white. And her vibrant red eyes had been dulled – sombre yet conveying a skittish twinkle. Only the white of her right eye had turned black, and pale blue veins branched and webbed all over the one side of her face and down her neck.

And her sunny blonde hair was now a silvery white...

Ragna was speechless, and he could feel himself growing more and more agitated the longer the girl stared at him; heat sweated out through his palms.

"Hahahahaha!" She giggled, regarding him longingly with lulled eyes and a rosy blush on her cheeks, lips plump and parted.

 _'Ooh-h-h-h no-o-o-o.'_ This was the face of nightmares, more terrifying than any ghost the world could summon up.

"Ragna~" She sang his name and closed the distance between them, lightly touching her nose to his own. "If you don't give me candy," her tongue slid across his lips, and he felt something cold and sharp pressed against his throat. "I'll dismember you~."

A clarification so disturbingly sweet that Ragna, in a split second, saw multiple lifetimes flash before his eyes...

"... F-Fair enough." The girl happily giggled some more.

His fate had just been sealed.

* * *

 **Mugen7:** A day late, but better late than never I suppose. Not the chapter I had planned next but since I found inspiration from an F/GO comic done by **_Yamato Nadeshiko_ **called **Trick or Die!** Figured I'd try to get this done as soon as.

If there are any Fate fans interested, a translated voice-over dub of the same name can be found on YouTube at the **_Sippy VA_** channel.


	12. Surprise (David vs Goliath)

**Chapter 12**

 **Surprise; David vs. Goliath**

* * *

"HELLO KITTY!" a voice exclaims, causing her to sigh – breathy and empurpled – with incense. "Don't go Kitty Kitty." She was already in a mood.

Sooner or later it happens again. The same shit, but on a different day.

"Hey hey, look what the _cat_ dragged in." Comes another voice.

This whole nonsense was a lot worse when she was a child. One kid after the next (taught by insufferable adults) taking turns to offend her in one way or another. There wasn't a whole lot her kid self could do to stop the shunning and bullying of society; especially when she bore not only the social stigma of being inhuman, but a hybrid also. An 'abomination'.

"Who let this _thing_ out of its cage?" says someone else, voice edged with contempt.

A chorus of laughter sweeps through the scene as a group of humans gather and surround her in a loose circle, making jokes and badmouthing her with puns and discriminatory remarks, much like she experienced in the earlier days of her youth. Now, however, social cruelty from the adolescents is its own case of drama.

 _'Adolescence... Its own stage of war.'_

They'd have liked it back then – the youngsters – if she acted like some subdued creature. Like a lamb. Unfortunately for them, even with no one in her corner, Kokonoe refused to be bullied into silence and submission. Inflamed, and like a ram butting its head, she retaliated with full force. Bold and aggressive, she wasn't about to become some feeble flame that'd be easily stamped out.

"What a sourpuss." Says a young woman with an insensitive tone.

"Yeah girl, we were jus' _kitten_ ," a tall young man, well over six feet and with an athletic frame, steps into her way. Similar to those around her, the man's clothes comprised of casual and stylish designer wear with a coloured emblem located on the front of his apparel. "Not hard _felines_."

This was the guy who loudly called out to her. With that enthusiastic voice and demeanour, and now a face, Kokonoe recognizes the youth as an internet sensation that regularly trends on the media. A troublemaker with a large following who, like any other, has a habit of callously disrespecting beastkin.

"Why-so- _serious_?" The celeb asks her with a stupid look on his face.

As a child Kokonoe learned quickly that people like this just aren't worth dealing with. Stress was caused by giving a fuck, so she chose to do the opposite and not respond to self-entitled twats who made an effort of mistreating at every given turn _just_ for what she is.

"What, not _feline_ so well?"

Ignorance, hate, exaggeration and inequity. While her tormentors wasted (and continue to waste) their time with barbs and criticism at the base and shadow of a mountain, Kokonoe climbed it; reaching her way to the top and going places in life. Each mountain one by one.

She's a survivor, not a victim, and she refuses to let the foolishness and the hurtful words of others weigh her down.

Besides, everything they spouted was nothing but smoke.

"You know, now that I get a good look at you..." he looked her up and down with a perverse smirk. "You're rather easy on the eyes."

Kay, maybe not everything.

"Betcha your mum's easy on the eyes too, eh?"

 **「Red flag** **!** **」**

"Betcha she's _feisty_...?" the youth's posey starts to chuckle, and her eyes narrows by a thin margin, enough for the boisterous star to notice.

"Betcha she likes it... _raw_?" Her knuckles pop, and however subtle, her tails – held low – flicker back and forth.

"Betcha she's a SAVAGE!?" coarse and lewd, the man's outcry entices his entourage to laugh out loud. "BRUTALITY!" he roars, " _Finish her_! _UHN_!" and rapidly jerks his hips; rough thrusts, and with a face more lecherous than before, tongue hanging out.

" _H'sssssss_!" Her pupils contract and hairs stand on end as the sharp sibilant sound zips through her throat.

The man jumps back, filled with hilarity.

"OOOOOH! We got ourselves a hisser folks...!" He shuffles about, lifting his guard and taking up an old fashioned fisticuffs stance, bobbing and weaving his head.

Kokonoe chastises herself for failing to keep her calm; for giving a fuck. Regardless, she couldn't help but respond like so.

"… Fine," the fierce heat and clusters of tension were suppressed, and the animosity in her eyes clears away. Bright, mellow ambers with an inclination for cheer. "I'll play." She says, words betokening varying degrees of perplexity from the crowd.

"For real...!?"

"What's a good for nothing like her gonna do?"

The celeb quietens everyone down, "Now now guys, let's give her a chance." He looks at her. "Sure you wanna fight me, little lady?"

Kokonoe smiles, the glaring difference in size not lost on her.

"Sure you wanna fight _me_ , big boy?" She asks, lips curved with a kittenish quality.

" _God_ , she is _so_ full of 'erself."

" _Tail_ me about it."

"What a silly kitty."

With a clap the uproarious star readies himself, and several people whip out their phones. All expensive and the latest makes, with flat screens and high quality cameras.

 _'Good.'_ She still has to let out some... _pent-up aggression_.

"Alriiiiight, let's _cat_ this show on the road."

Kokonoe stands stock-still and observes the young man, watchful of his movements. Studiously aloof.

He's quick and light on his feet, and keeps a distance. He snipes with fast jabs and equally paced crosses - none of which connect - and breathes out in short bursts.

 **…**

 **『** **You try to run me through  
Hold on  
Think again  
Don't you know  
What you're starting** **』**

 **…**

Temple, nose, chin and jaw, kidney, liver, and solar plexus. He thought he had his game planned out to a T, but she was way ahead of him. This flashy warmup of his was nothing but a scare tactic used to try and psych her out, and the aim at vital areas with pinpoint accuracy was the young man's way of showing off his (supposed) competence.

 **…**

 **『** **But… you sure ain't got a clue  
How bad  
This will go  
Don't you know  
Know my art (Art of war)** **』**

 **…**

A technical aggressor. He dances around her, stepping in and out, and shooting flurry after flurry of punches that – before less perceptive eyes – are a blur.

He tries to be crafty; freely interchanging back and forth between an orthodox and southpaw stance, and begins to come at her with kicks also.

Low kick – hook to the mid – overhand right – and, oh... a forceful knee that braked just beneath her chin.

 _'Yare Yare Dawa.'_ She exhales through her nose. The luminary was entertaining, she'll admit, but not for the same reasons as his friends and worldwide viewers.

"What a scaredy cat."

"So shook she can't even move."

She rolls her eyes, "Imbeciles." Fickle-minded youths who don't know any better.

 **…**

 **『** **And as you look to the horizon  
Not a cloud  
But then stormy weather's caught you cold** **』**

 **…**

At last the celebrity ceases his showboating, stopping in front of Kokonoe and quite winded. His friends were very much impressed by his performance.

"You frightened...?" his smile is broad. "How 'bout I do ya a solid, and give ya the first hit? No... make that nine. Give you more of a _perspective_ on how tough I am." He patronizes.

 **…**

 **『** **Seems like it crept up out of nowhere  
All around  
You it's not quite what you foretold** **』**

 **…**

Kokonoe grins maliciously, "Offer accepted." With laser-like exactitude she delivers a hellacious kick to the young man's groin – **「** **WEAK** **」**.

 **…**

 **『** **You'll never see it co~mi~ng  
You'll see that my mind is too fast for your eyes** **』**

 **…**

"Ooowwwwwwwww...!" As he doubles over Kokonoe rapidly assaults him with her very own series of kicks.

"MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDA! MUDAAAAAAA!"

 **「** **CRUSH!** **」**

 **…**

 **『** **You're done i~n** **』**

 **…**

She finishes with a spinning back kick to the face that sends the celeb flying back.

 **…**

 **『** **By the time it's hit you – your last surprise!** **』**

 **…**

And as he crumples to ground, a distinct air of surprise crossed over the people's faces.

 **…**

 **『Oo~h** 』

…

Obviously, they did not expect their "superstar" to take such a beating, let alone witness someone of her size to be so... dangerous.

 **…**

 **『Oo~h** 』

…

She spins.

Snapping her fingers, Kokonoe points at the young man who now lay unconscious with a bloody face and mostly certainly a few broken bones.

…

 **『Oo~h** 』

…

"Mada Mada Daze." She takes her leave, walking up to the people ahead who hurriedly step aside.

And as she leaves Kokonoe becomes aware of a child hiding out of plain view; a vantage point affording them enough open space to catch everything on camera.

…

 **『Oo~h** 』

…

She cheekily smiles at the kid who smiles right back.

"Fame... is as fickle as food."

 **…**

 **『** **The. End** **』**


	13. Joy (Change of Pace)

**The RaKoLa Collection**

* * *

 **Chapter XIII**

 **Joy – Change of Pace**

* * *

Bent over, head low, eyes lidded;

Kokonoe sat exhausted on the warm, coloured asphalt court, her wind heavy and chest tight, arms and legs leaden as her muscles burned with soreness, and her hair and apparel dampened from the profuse excretion of sweat released from her pores, sheening her flesh.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

Honestly, she missed feeling like this.

Now that may sound strange to hear, but in all seriousness, she did.

She's a genius hybrid science whiz who once found great solace in the labour of physical exertion in the earlier days of her youth.

Science is her forte and would always be of interest to the half-beast.

Both her mother, Konoe, and grandfather are highly renowned in the field, and, as is the case, Kokonoe inherited their bright mind and aptitude for the subject.

When the signs of her impressive intellect showed early (scoring a value equivalent to genius IQ) her mother invested a great deal of time cultivating the young mind of her "child prodigy" of a daughter, with Kokonoe herself being strongly... _encouraged_ , to put her genius to productive use.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

She was a child leagues ahead of her peers and achieved academic success easily.

But while she may be a genius, she was still a child at the time. A child who wanted to play and have a childhood to enjoy, hoping for, at least, a balance between work and play.

But that wouldn't be the case.

With the amount of time spent shadowing her mother at the organization she worked, having first-hand experience of her research at her facility and being tutored by the woman herself, the breathing space in-between to do anything that can be regarded as fun to a child grew less and less.

Mind you Kokonoe enjoyed the time she spent with Konoe on a regularly basis, but when learning lost its excitement, becoming a bore and turning into a loose-like form of indoctrination, then she couldn't be blamed for getting into a strop and complaining now could she?

 _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

Playing video games and reading manga, watching anime and eating sweets.

Making friends... hopefully.

Those were the types of mediums her kid self wanted in life for fun – yet in time, were more and more removed from her childhood.

Not to misunderstand, in no way was her mother the type of parent to live through their child because of some happenstance that made them miss out on opportunities in life. I mean did you forget the "highly renowned" part?

No. Konoe was a brilliant woman who became so focused on enriching Kokonoe's intelligence and bettering her that she wound up losing sight of the plain and simple truth that her daughter was just a kid; over-cultivating her pride and joy's mind without regard for the potential setback of her floundering later on in years and burning out due to the increasing complexity of her academic workload.

The woman turned into more of an instructor and less of a mother.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

Her "mother"... a genius, but also a strict and fiery woman who had a habit of flaunting her superiority.

She didn't like being under _anyone's_ thumb, and disapproved of others not acknowledging her for her brilliance.

Sharp-tongued and prone to fits of belligerence herself, Konoe didn't take kindly to anyone undermining her authority...

And Kokonoe was no exception.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

Years of bottling up her frustrations, Kokonoe had just about reached her limit of dealing with Konoe's overbearingness, and on the day the woman's high-handed attitude finally pushed her over the edge, Kokonoe snapped.

She lashed out, yelling and screaming obscenities, and in the midst of her outrage, Konoe retaliated.

Dissimilar to Kokonoe's outwardly expressive and stormy tantrum, Konoe's flaring hostility was contained and channelled differently; the searing potency of her displeasure rivalling, if not surpassing Kokonoe's in the upcoming moment.

– _Breathe in!_

Like a sprint of lightning Kokonoe had been silenced soundly; Konoe shutting her up with a swift, hard smack across the face with an effect so resounding that it left Kokonoe feeling weak.

– _Breathe out!_

She cracked, collapsing to the floor and being able to nothing but tremble all over under Konoe's powerful stare, slowly withdrawing and hiding away in her mind as the woman verbally reproached her with a dark and aloof countenance to her exterior, cementing that she alone knew what was best and how Kokonoe better think twice before speaking – _acting_ – towards her in such a disrespectful and unsavoury fashion again.

– …

Their relationship had been on the reverse end since then.

Kokonoe didn't exactly have the option to move out of the house (not for a few more years at least) and seeing as how her life played out for as long as it did back then, she didn't have a single friend to speak of whose home she could lay low in if she ever decided to run away.

She did have her aunt however. But... the woman wasn't a good option.

Living in another city her aunty was usually kept busy with her role as Ward Sister at a hospital and the work she did on the side by fundraising money for shelters.

Even if Kokonoe managed to fork up enough money to make the trip it'd only be a matter of time before Konoe found out where she'd run off to, either by calling her sister first or her aunt making a call to enquire about her niece's sudden "visit".

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

With everything fun Kokonoe had back at the house to fall back on that could help her unwind being confiscated and locked away some place, as well as Konoe keeping tabs on her search history on the computer for anything unrelated to studying, everyday after classes she would stay away from the house for as long as possible – lounging away in a corner of a bookstore reading graphic novels, manga and light novels, and when closing time came around, she gallivanted the streets well into the night.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

Putting more hours into her work, Konoe often returned home late.

On the off chance Kokonoe arrived back at the house after the woman it would become a question of where she'd been at such-and-such hour as she was expected to come straight home after her final lesson, and should Kokonoe play hard of hearing – expressionless – she would head straight to the bedroom and close the door behind herself, just _wishing_ Konoe would sense the tone and back off; leave her be.

But nope.

– _Breathe in...!_

The older woman would be right there, helping herself into the room and interrogating Kokonoe for answers, utterly dismissing her attempts at trying to keep calm and composed and not breakdown again.

– _Breathe...out...!_

Once she got what she wanted Konoe would take her leave, keeping the bedroom door wide open as she left.

 **"This house isn't a hotel.**

 **You have no privacy here."**

Didn't take long for her gauge to fill up rapidly after that particular moment. Just the sound of Konoe speaking to her was enough to make Kokonoe's chest tight and heavy with discomfort, and unless she was keen on feeling unstable 24/7 and eager to get into an actual fight with the woman (unwise seeing as she was both physically smaller and weaker than her), then Kokonoe _needed_ an outlet for her angst and frustrations.

– _Breathe in...!_

She tried masturbating at first.

– _Breathe out!_

Did well to tire herself out. But in the end she needed something more demanding, and as Konoe so forwardly stated, she had no privacy in the house.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

One evening during an aimless gallivant she had passed through a park, about an hours journey from the house, and as she made her way through she was accidentally hit in the back of the head by a ball.

A basketball, to be exact.

And that got Kokonoe thinking... She had never taken up a sport before, in fact she rather enjoyed reading the one manga based on basketball alone, and she remembered enough about basketball to understand the gist of it.

Without access to a trainer though she needed to revise and learn more about the sport from other sources. But first and foremost...

– _Breathe in..._

She needed a ball.

– _Breathe out..._

Konoe tended to be very loose with money, often buying whatever she fancied impulsively without much regard for the price and how much of a dip it put in her bank account.

Since she needed money (and because she was pissed off at the woman) Kokonoe nicked her card one time and treated herself to a couple of basketballs, new apparel, and other essentials before returning it without notice.

From that point on, everyday, Kokonoe practised, practised, practised. Dribbling a ball any and everywhere she went outdoors and working on her ballhandling.

Zigzag (windshield wipers), wraparound, crossover, behind the back, between the legs, shammgod, transitioning to a dribble off the triple threat and hand-eye coordination; Kokonoe worked for _hours_ , being mindful of her movements, polishing her execution, and competing against herself and her own shadow whenever it appeared vividly on a wall, and progressively applying her own creativity to the assortment of moves she knew every time at the end of a drill.

– _Breathe in...! Breathe out...!_

As much as she enjoyed the process of self-betterment however, Kokonoe needed to practice shooting. So one weekend she returned to the same park from before – a popular hangout spot for a mixed community of basketball players who competed at the courts regularly.

She sized up everyone there at the time and compared to herself, the vast majority of the players weren't just big in physical build, but in presence too. They were imposing and Kokonoe could literally _feel_ the excitement of everyone set to compete against one another from a distance.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

For someone as reserved as herself, she very much felt out of place in such an active setting. What she had before her were a skilled and eclectic range of individuals so unreserved and energetic that it made her anxious to even step forth and enter the scene. In fact she was of the mind she'd be told to get lost.

– _Breathe in..._

But she wasn't.

– _Breathe out...!_

No one cared that some random half-beast kid wanted to shoot hoops with the rest of them; so long as she had handles and could hold her own on the court, then she was welcome to do as she pleased.

However,

just because they were alright with letting her play didn't mean all of them were gonna to pull their punches.

Streetball typically went by its own set of rules compared to its more "formal" alternative – there generally wasn't much structure and everything tended be improvisatory; there were no referees so everyone called their own fouls; there were a lot of isolation plays and flashy dribbling; the style of the game would differ each time, and everyone liked to play their own role (more than one person playing the same position).

And much like in the professional scene, games could get _rough_. And she wasn't acknowledging said fact simply because she was small.

Different generations moved at different paces, and with it came a nuance of strong personalities and big egos that clashed dangerously with one another from time to time.

– _Breathe in...! Breathe out...!_

Every sport has its fixation on the cut-throat nature of competitiveness, and there would always be someone talking smack and wanting to rip your head off whenever they themselves were in a mood or out for blood.

– _Breathe in! Breathe out!_

Kokonoe didn't always leave the courts on friendly terms with some of the players, especially with this one tan-skinned, pale-haired tomboy who didn't like being shown up by the "newbie" after a pickup game.

Numerous times did she get physical with someone whose ego she bruised in an exchange; unable to stomach being bested by a pink-haired shorty who was still relatively new to playing in actual games. But as Kokonoe would come to learn, a combination of losing her temper and competing in the streets against bigger people with serious attitude problems was advantageous for allowing the latent physical ability from her beast heritage to come roaring out like an explosion when in a fight.

– _Breathe in! Breathe out!_

However not every baller she encountered was strictly a freestyling trash talkers with bragging rights. There would players entering the scene who had refined acumen; basketball IQ exhibited through the use of smart plays, management on defence and quick decisions alongside good intuition – and if there's one thing Kokonoe could appreciate (much like her mother) was intelligence.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

No matter how often she left the courts roughed up, hiding her cuts and scrapes, and the occasional bruise on the way back to the house... Kokonoe kept returning.

Steadily it was no longer an excuse to relieve stress and be away from the house till dark, but because of passion – pure and genuine enjoyment for the sport; wanting a challenge and not letting any player have anything over her.

Once that realization fully sank in Kokonoe would spend countless hours training; refining her skills and repertoire to a state of perfection through cold discipline and rigorous repetition; making herself faster and tougher, fighting and screaming through the pain gnawing at her whole body each and every time as a result and continuation of an extreme workout; and just going at it extremely hard on the courts – learning to sell her moves with more pop and making her change of pace more impactful whilst improving her basketball IQ in the thick of games and elsewhere.

– _Breathe in...! Breathe out...!_

All her leisure time was devoted to the sport. She thrived in the competitive scene, and naturally it changed her.

Before she even realized, Kokonoe had gone from a grumpy and miserable, devitalized kid, to a stern and rollicking, proud and fierce (and rather satirical) competitive player whose developed physicality and violent temperament made for an amusing, albeit frightening, spectacle to behold.

 **"IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY SMART ASS!? HOW ABOUT AN 'I'M SORRY' OR SOMETHING BETTER YOU LITTLE SHIT!?"**

Is what she once said to a big fella with too much lip whilst kicking and stomping him wildly into the ground.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

Although, in spite of working _extremely_ hard to reach the level she was at, everything... came naturally to her.

She may have spent a great deal of time nurturing her own talent for the sport... but it also seemed she was inherently gifted towards it.

When she'd been acknowledged as a prodigy, she didn't think her brilliance would be applied to a sport also.

At a certain point in her development Kokonoe began to rapidly excel at basketball, and at the age of fifteen she was an exceptional playmaker with a reputation that spread like wildfire, whose analytical intelligence, insight, and flawless execution on the court made her into a ruthless and fearsome competitor who won every single game she played in since her breakthrough.

… Yes.

– _Breathe in..._

Every single game.

– _Breathe out..._

With victories coming easily to her... an issue arose.

The more and more she won, the more and more Kokonoe grew... tired.

– _Yawn._

The progressing lack of a challenge became an increasing problem for her; no longer was there a struggle during games, a sense of urgency when high stakes were involved...

A toxic thrill.

 **"Yare yare dawa."**

Kokonoe had become good. _Too good_. And that eventuality led to an imminent shift once again.

She became disillusioned.

Admittedly it was soul-crushing to come to the realization that something she'd grown to love so strongly, used to wake up every morning in anticipation for and sometimes lost sleep over, spent _so long_ improving herself in... no longer excited her.

Not even a little.

– …

Her motivation fell; she hardly played in games and stopped practising altogether (the thought of it even made her laugh).

Her once rigorous training regime became non-existent, and she spent most of her time lounging off to side somewhere, either sleeping or acting as a coach for new youngsters – so buoyant and spirited – who came seeking her out for advice.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

She wondered... When it was she became saddened...? When exactly she became detached and lethargic...? When she started placing more focus on science and finishing her studies...?

When it was she started to feel... empty?

– …

She honestly couldn't say. But it must've been a _long_ while, because her hair had grown ridiculously long.

– _Sigh._

How could she have predicted that her life would change so dramatically in only fifteen years of living, that the highs and lows would have such a profound affect on her emotionally?

She couldn't.

But life is unpredictable, and has its own way of working things out in the end for a person.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

After a long year without any serious activity, Kokonoe reached sixteen.

She graduated with a degree in science and mathematics, she got an apprenticeship at an agency located in the city, and, she moved out of her Konoe's house, sharing accommodations with an outgoing and very feminine young Asian woman who was apprenticed at the same agency as herself.

– …

Kokonoe never told Konoe where it was she worked or had moved to, and she honestly didn't care to, nor did she think the woman cared herself seeing as they rarely talked to one another in the years leading up to her leaving.

The woman never tried to get in touch with her. However it did throw Kokonoe through the loop a little when she started getting phone calls from her aunt routinely.

Now the woman wishing to chat with her "dear little niece" was nothing unusual, but what made Kokonoe cautious was her aunt telling her that Konoe would call her to ask if she'd had any contact with herself as of late, even taking time off from work to spend quality time with her younger sibling in the city over because she was "distrait".

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

Her aunt wasn't aware of their poor relationship (at least Kokonoe didn't think so), but enquiring on her whereabouts and well-being on behalf of Konoe led Kokonoe to believe that her aunt had a suspicion that every wasn't all fine and dandy back at Konoe's house.

And with her aunt constantly enquiring about her schedule and new living situation on her sister's behalf, Kokonoe started to get defensive.

 **"Oh no no! It's nothing like that Kokonoe, really!**

 **It's just...**

 **Well, Sis... your mother... she wouldn't say it openly, but I could tell.**

 **She really misses you."**

– _Breathe in...breathe...out...!_

Kokonoe wasn't ready to deal with Konoe yet, neither did she know when she'd be ready; she'd been referring to the woman by her given for years, hadn't even called her "Mum" since... since her outburst.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

Avoiding the problem between them wasn't going to solve anything, and she certainly didn't appreciate it when her thoughts started filling up with images of the woman – smiling, cooing, hugging and fawning over her from a time when she was a little girl; felt as if she was being forced to confront the issue immediately rather than doing so at her own pace.

She needed a distraction from the rerunning thoughts of the woman, and was well on her way to getting one in fact.

 _– **Thump! Thump!**_

As she passed through the park one evening a loud thump followed by a high-pitched echo rang through her ears.

And that's where Kokonoe saw _him_.

A boy, taller and presumably the same age as herself, with long spiky hair that looked to have been coloured by the sun itself, was on one of the courts alone with his back towards her.

From her spot Kokonoe raised an eyebrow, watching the mystery teen with her hands in her pockets.

At first glance she didn't have much of an impression of the youth, however there was something about him that lit a spark within herself.

He wasn't doing anything special in the beginning, simply bouncing a basketball casually and smoothly switching hands.

He looked to be pacing himself, locked in a stalemate with an imaginary opponent. His shoulders were low and he was bent at the knees, delved into a relaxed stance that gave off the impression of total laxity and vulnerability. But that wasn't the case. There was still tension in the boy's form; muscles loose yet ready to spring into action at any given moment.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

He maintained that same routine for a bit...

And then burst into movement.

Kokonoe raised her second brow then. The teen moved quick and instinctively, charging one way with a fake before crossing over in the opposite direction, driving to the basket, slamming the ball into the ground as he dribbled, hard enough as though he were trying to break the floor itself.

Fleet-footed, he covered the distance in mere seconds, and what she assessed to be another visualization, the teen motioned outward before spinning into the free-throw lane, leaping up into the air and sailing across far enough before jamming the ball into the hoop, his hand pressed down onto the rim with enough force that it creaked, leading one to believe that the hoop would be snapped off its hinges.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

After his performance Kokonoe stood around idly with a contemplative look before jerking off her bag and jacket and calling out to the boy.

When he turned around she was met by a pair of striking green irises; fire-eyed and emotive.

Something had flickered in his eyes for a moment (as though there were a subtle hint of them changing colour) before his gaze narrowed with clear suspicion.

 **"Who the hell are you?"**

Unfazed by his tone Kokonoe told the boy outright to play her. He wasn't appreciative of someone randomly showing up telling him what to do, but after enough provocation the two of them engaged in a 1-on-1, first to reach 10.

– _Breathe in..._

She convinced herself it was solely out of curiosity that she wanted to play against him.

– _Breathe out..._

Wishing to see how much the boy could ease her of her boredom.

– _Breathe in..._

As it turned out...

– _Breathe out..._

Not by very much.

Even with a full year of no serious activity Kokonoe was still a top tier player in the city, and it even showed whenever she did get involved in a serious game or two. The only thing she would have to be concerned about was her stamina, but that alone wasn't enough of a detriment to cause a problem.

 **"…** **What a disappointment."**

As expected she left the court the victor. The blond didn't earn a single point and she didn't even have to put much of an effort into their game.

But even though she won that day, that spark inside her still remained, and it irritated her, like an itch she couldn't be cured of.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

The next time she passed by the courts the boy was there, locked in a half-court pickup game.

Kokonoe kept an eye on the blond without paying attention to where she was going. Purely relying on her sixth sense she made her way along the sidelines and snatched a flask of water out of the hand of a recognizable tomboy who sat cross-legged on the floor, dropping into her lap and drinking from the flask while using the grousing female's chest as a pillow.

 **"Hey!"**

Long since had the two of them moved on from the physical confrontations and heated verbal arguments with each other.

Ever since becoming indolent and quietened from the upset, Kokonoe's relationship with the tomboy had slowly turned into more of a... stable, albeit love-hate, friendship.

 **"There's space right over there you know?"**

 **"Just shut up and quit movin' around will ya... I'm tired."**

 **"Hard to imagine since you rarely play any more."**

 **"Not like it makes a difference."**

Whilst her "pillow" groaned and made empty threats, Kokonoe kept her eye on the boy with analytical focus.

He received the ball, setting himself in a triple threat and being alert of the larger man who came to mark him.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

The boy eased up and slammed the ball while in neutral, dribbling it fast between his legs, behind his back, and as he brought the ball back round to his side he stepped, baiting his mark with a feint before exploding past with a crossover dribble, throwing off an oncoming player with a quick hesi (hesitation) and scoring with a layup which appeared to win his team the game.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

She watched him make his way off the court in their direction, no sooner noticing herself.

She let out a dry chuckle when he asked if she came to play him again.

 **"You'd just lose again. Besides, your data's no good."**

The boy gave her a blank stare before snickering, leading her to scowl.

 **"Data, huh? So you're one of those genius types or something?**

 **Well... makes no difference to me.**

 **Data or no data. I'm still gonna kick your ass soon enough."**

Kokonoe went wide-eyed, as did her friend, and smirked before laughing with wry amusement. If he knew of her reputation he wouldn't be so quick to make such a bold claim.

Although she had the suspicion that titles and reputations meant nothing to him; treating any person he met with the same audacious attitude.

 **"Yeah... alright."**

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

Time went on.

As per (her new) usual, Kokonoe divided her time between working at the agency and relaxing, all the while being harassed by the same troublesome spark that wouldn't leave her alone.

Soon, it was late in autumn, and their time had arrived; a full-court game that had an impressive count of players and spectators collectively coming by to watch and get in on a little action themselves.

Nothing in the slightest had been planned beforehand; was merely a coincidence that the boy's rematch with herself came about in the way it did. But she had no complaints.

Teams were sorted at random, but naturally Kokonoe called dibs on her "cushion" who looked at her with objection when she'd been called over.

 **"What makes you think I want to team up with you?"**

 **"'Cause I said. Now hurry up and get that ass of yours over here."**

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

When the boy and herself crossed paths, Kokonoe eyed him closely, taking in his stature.

From a quick observation she could see the change in him, standing near her like an entirely different person.

 **"Hmm... Looks like you've levelled up some."**

 **"Guess so."**

Tip-off came and the game was underway.

The ball came in possession of the opposition, and they all gunned it down the court, approaching her side aggressively. But Kokonoe and her lot matched the boy and his team's pressure quickly with a strong man-to-man defence.

Both teams jockeyed to gain control over the other, but her side managed to steal the ball and score the first point.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

After a forceful shot from the opposition their score was even, and immediately after both sides were locked in a three-point shoot-out. But with Kokonoe's strong ability to read and react her team grasped the flow of the game quick and took the lead with a widening gap in the scores.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

The ball was handled quick and cycled amongst the players of the other team. One of their members wound up with the ball in hand but was immediately cut off from dribbling any further past mid-court by her friend.

The player brought the ball overhead and quickly threw it over to a teammate, and that's when Kokonoe bolted; she could feel the corner of lips twitching upward, and as she intercepted her target near the edge of the court, she locked _him_ down in an isolation play.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

The blond and herself held each other's gaze and felt one another out by reading the subtle hint of feints they performed.

Everyone around waited with bated breaths, the many expecting Kokonoe to be the clear winner of the exchange between them.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

Just as Kokonoe believed the boy to commit and attempt to break through...

He passed the ball to a man who made himself open. His composed retreat from their deadlock surprised Kokonoe, nevertheless impressed her; the version of him that she played against before was a lot more emotionally fuelled and would've charged recklessly and lost possession of the ball by herself in no time.

 **"Hmm, so you _can_ think smart."**

The game proceeded and her team still maintained the lead; functioning more systematically, spreading out on the court, making the extra pass and full use of screens.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

Even though her team was in the lead, the tension started to escalate, and Kokonoe witnessed a fire burn more fiercely in the blond's eyes, like he was making a point to her: despite not one-upping her yet he was going to persevere and overcome her no matter what.

– _Breathe in...breathe out..._

Seconds flew apace and the their scores went on the climb as the pace of the game rapidly excelled.

Kokonoe received the ball and was cut off as the blond darted in front of her position.

– _Breathe in..._

She bounced the ball lazily, standing in place as the boy crouched low.

– _Breathe out..._

Time seemed to slow to a crawl then.

– _Breathe in..._

Sudden; the boy exploded forth –

– _Breathe out!_

His hand lashed out to steal the ball from her possession.

– _Breathe in...!_

As the ball bounced up, an inch from her fingertips, Kokonoe sidestepped with a quick evade, bouncing the basketball behind her back and dribbling it forward once before smoothly transitioning into a jump shot.

– _Breathe out..._

Her poise was balanced, and she had no doubts about making the three; the blond had lunged so forcefully that she had no qualms about him even having remotely of a chance to catch up to her.

And yet...

 **"…!"**

Her self-assurance had been chipped when she caught sight of a hand – _his_ hand – in her field of view, reaching over from above seconds after she released ball from her hold.

The ball entered the hoop in the end, but not smoothly; the boy's fingertip had just managed to tip the ball before it fully left his range, thus causing it to ricochet about within the rim before falling through the net.

– …

Kokonoe was unmoving afterwards.

The hairs on the back of he neck spiked, and as the spark inside her flickered to a brighter intensity, her tails started to twitch.

And before she noticed...

– _Breathe in..._

She was playing more seriously.

– _**Breathe out...!**_

In sharp contrast to her calm front, Kokonoe was radiating amusement, her passion crackling and burning hotter like coal and wood fuelling a fire.

Enthusiasm kicked in and a new level of excitement was brought to the game as she started to play more actively on offence, sealed in an incredible and zealous see-saw of 1-on-1s and scoring with the blond that had everyone in awe.

– _Breathe in! Breathe out...!_

Bit by bit, Kokonoe was becoming more free; moulting out of the methodical and conventional style of play she had adopted and further into an unconventional and artful form.

– _Breathe in...breathe out!_

She was a little frustrated, however.

No matter how much she tried to shake him off the boy managed to keep pace with her everchanging rhythm.

Not by thought, but instinct.

– _Breathe in–breathe out!_

When she was on the attack he preyed on her like a wild beast – a predator, hungry and adamant to catch its target – and when he was on the attack he would move fluidly like a stream yet also torrential like a waterfall rushing and overwhelming whatever tried to scale it.

– _Breathe in_ – _breathe out!_

It was like split personality. The faster and more aggressively she performed the more the other half of him would reciprocate; a monster inside unleashing volumes of its killer instinct.

 **"Tch!"**

The boy stole the ball from one of her players and Kokonoe stopped him from rushing down the court.

Without thinking, he feinted and drove to her left, but she kept up.

She swiped at the ball but the boy threw himself back and flung the ball unceremoniously at the hoop, the ball hitting the backboard before dropping in to everyone's shock.

 **"Crazy blond."**

– _Breathe in...! Breathe out...!_

Kokonoe stole a pass and scored.

The boy dunked.

She shot off the dribble.

He unexpectedly made an assist.

She copied.

He drove to the three-point line and she pounced, failing to stop him in time.

– _Breathe in_ – _breathe out!_

The gap was closing.

– _Breathe in_ – _breathe out!_

The other players were magnetically drawn in deeper by the faster pace and intensity of the game, playing harder and supporting as best they could.

– _Breathe in_ – _breathe out!_

Neither of them gave an inch, but their deadlock was on the verge of collapse.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

Kokonoe managed to change her pace acutely enough to shake off the boy and race down the court, slipping past and weaving around players from the opposition.

– _Breathe in...breathe out...!_

The boy caught up, coming round to intercept directly from the front.

Kokonoe decelerated, braking hard and springing back into a fadeaway.

– _Breathe in...!_

She felt absolutely certain she'd make the shot, but her certainty this time was flat-out broken.

– _...!_

The blond came roaring at her, overlapping her form whilst airborne and thwacking the basketball out of her hands.

Kokonoe was so abject with astonishment that she was unmindful of her own descent, loosing her footing and falling on her behind.

.

.

.

And thus, we've come full circle.

"Haaaah... Haaaah... Haaah..."

Tired, but she won't tell herself that; acknowledge it or even allow the fact to creep in and stick itself in her mind.

 _He actually got me...!_ She muses, perplexed still.

"… Are you alright?"

Without turning Kokonoe sees her friend lending a helping hand, an gesture uncharacteristic of the tomboy to offer her.

"Stay there any longer... and I doubt you'll be getting up."

Kokonoe eyes shift and lock onto a pair of retro designed basketball shoes a few paces away.

She looks up and observes the blond boy, looking as dishevelled and winded as herself, dressed in a pair of lengthened baggy shorts and a large t-shirt with a graphic design of the Roman numeral for 5 made up of dual-coloured feathers.

"..."

Kokonoe bites her lip with her eyes downcast.

Is she frustrated?

"Hm...!"

No. She's feeling the opposite.

"Hmhmhmhm...!"

She feels satisfaction, gratitude; never has she competed against someone like this boy before, someone who has inadvertently helped to get her groove back.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

The boy isn't just crazy in her opinion. He's downright stubborn and headstrong to have taken her on.

But he's also made himself extraordinary in her eyes. The kind of extraordinary individual she wished appeared before her years ago.

"You certainly know how to impress a girl..." she moves, ignoring her friend's assistance and standing up on her own. "Bring out the _animal_ in her."

She grips the front of her partner's shirt and wipes her face with it.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? USE YOUR OWN SHIRT!" The tomboy yanks her garment out of Kokonoe's grasp.

Kokonoe herself pays the pale-haired player's outburst no mind and unbinds her hair, combing her bangs back out of her face before tying her hair back into a ponytail with her ribbon.

She turns to the boy and flashes him a smile full of white teeth and stares at him intently.

"I hope this isn't all you can do?" Her grin sharpens, as do her pupils; yellow eyes sparking and flashing with elation.

Kokonoe never expected the boy to improve so much over the months and be able to push her so hard; force her to give away so much of what she's been truly capable of.

 _It's like he's been getting one insane experience boost after the next._

Up until now, she's been operating at 80%, possibly a little bit over, even.

But she wants more...

"You're the most fun I've had in ages."

She wants him, _needs_ him to push her further – push her all the way and bring out her total max!

"I need more enjoyment out of him, so don't do anything unnecessary and stay out of our way." She says, addressing all those on her team, and additionally, his own.

The suspense is killing her - she feels like she could burst and glitter like a shower of fireworks any second now.

"Heh heh heh."

The familiarity of madness, the hot and electrifying unyielding of resolve, the excessively sweet sense of fun and her once dulled instinct reaching sky-high,

and the toxic thrill of having a worthy challenge - just like from when she was a fierce, rip-roaring competitor who couldn't get enough of the game.

 _Yeah... just like that!_

Kokonoe was at peace again. And much like the calm, the storm inside was about to supersede it.

At this very moment...

"Come on blondie, entertain me some more!"

Kokonoe stood beside herself with joy.

* * *

 **Mugen7:** Fucking hassle to edit this on the site after poor connection screwed me over _twice_.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to sleep before catching up on some KH3.

L8r.


	14. Gameplay (Angry Spiral)

**The RaKoLa Collection**

* * *

 **Chapter XIV**

 **Gameplay – Angry Spiral**

* * *

"Jeez... What's with all the noise?" Ragna wondered, jumping to his feet after having heard the harsh sounds of angry yelling coming from inside the house.

Stepping onto the garden deck he slid open the door to the lounge and stepped inside, welcomed to the familiar sight of Kokonoe sitting in front of the TV playing a video game.

"Oh my god RUN THE LOOP YOU DAMN BLUE PRICK!" Kokonoe bawled at the screen.

Ragna looked at the television, watching as the cat-girl tried to get the blue character she was controlling to steer away from the edge of a green path that it appeared to be acting stiff and fidgety against before it fell from its vertical placement and descended into a bottomless green depth with the screen blacking out a moment later.

"Aaaggghhh!" Kokonoe fumed, shaking violently whilst gripping the game controller hard enough to make it creak.

"Uh, Kokonoe?"

"I'm fine _dammit_!" She snapped back at him.

Ragna nodded once, and instead of heading back out to the garden he chose to remain where he stood, further watching the pink-haired woman play her game.

Kokonoe picked up from what he guessed to be a checkpoint of some kind, moving the blue character alongside two others that automatically followed behind through a stage that looked like a gigantic, sprawling green forest with oversized plant life.

"Don'tchu even _think_ about dropping!" Kokonoe warned, using a corresponding button on her controller to switch to another character (a red one this time) with the blue character and the third running on either side of them.

Ragna studied the trio as they were moved along a wide path with three lanes that sloped upward by the end, circling into three giant loops.

"Come ooooooon...!"

Just before making the vertical climb the characters each stepped on a panel that upped their acceleration. And as soon as the camera angle changed, so too did the smoothness and speed of the run.

"Go! Go fast for fu- WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SLOWING DOWN!?"

Same as before, the character being controlled became shaky and butted against the edge, quickly slowing to a demanding crawl as it neared the height of the incline. Then it simply dropped, falling through a gap and descending to their death.

"FUCK YOUUUUUUU! FUCK. _YOU_!"

Both hearing and seeing Kokonoe get emotional over a game was nothing new to Ragna, but the vehemence of her reaction to having failed to do what was meant to be a straightforward run yet again was that of _extreme_ indignation. Ragna himself didn't play video games much – rarely did he spend his free time actually sitting with Kokonoe playing a multiplayer that actually got him excited – but the guy could tell dodgy game mechanics when he saw them. Although, that being said...

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHH!"

Kokonoe made two more attempts before throwing in the towel, smacking the controller down and pressing the heel of her palms hard against her head with her fingers digging into her scalp, spitting out profanities one after another as she tossed and turned wildly on the living room floor stewing in anger.

Silent, Ragna stared at her for a time before turning his attention back to the television. Without much thought he walked over and sat down, picking up the still working controller and played the game, continuing from the last checkpoint. He played in the same way Kokonoe had done; he had the red character punch a circle flap that catapulted them into a yellow plant-like spring that sent them flying up to the top of a steep slope, he switched and made the descent by grinding on a long vine-rail, and traversed two loop-de-loops that brought him onto the three-lane track.

"So far so good."

He kept them moving, guiding his lead character down the middle lane. And as he came up to the panel...

 **– _"Woohoo!"_**

The character accelerated and successfully traversed all three giant loops, flying high once again at the end of the trail, bouncing across two airborne yellow fruit, and landing on a silver foothold.

"Huh," Ragna set the controller down and laughed light-heartedly. "I guess you lack the touch, Koko... no... e."

He became disquieted upon turning to see the cat-girl's bug-eyed, bewildered expression. It was like her heart – her entire world – had just stopped; body completely frozen stiff, with eyes rooted on the TV.

And then something inside Kokonoe just snapped, her eyes showing an unfathomable amount dangerous intent.

"K-Kokonoe...?" Ragna fumbled, nervously backing away from the woman and moving towards the TV.

"You son of a bitch!" Kokonoe cursed, expressing an outburst of pure unadulterated fury. She was absolutely livid that Ragna nonchalantly made effortless work of a simple task that had screwed her over again and again.

"H-hey... What'cha doin' there!?" Ragna started to feel more and more uneasy as he looked at Kokonoe; her face turned a fierce shade of red, her breathing became loud and heavy, and steam was visibly released from her mouth as she exhaled. He would even swear that in that moment he saw the background become set ablaze.

"H-hey hey hey hey! Put that down will ya!"

Kokonoe lifted the large, wooden living room table over her head, and like a behemoth set to rampage, she rushed forward, bringing the table down.

"RACIST _MOTHER_ -!"

"KOKONOE!"

* * *

 **Mugen7:** Based on a fond memory I have of me and my friend from years ago, back when we used to replay old games we owned.

For the life of him (and myself) he couldn't understand why he kept dying at this damn loop; cursed up a storm every time it happened. Then I take over and do it in one go... He was not pleased. Jokin'ly called the game racist for screwin' with him alone and not me also.

Hmhmhmhmhmhmhmhmhmhm... Hmm, still somethin' we laugh over to this day.

Till next time.

L8r.


	15. Presage (Wounded Hart)

**The RaKoLa Collection**

* * *

 **Chapter XV**

 **Presage – Wounded Hart**

* * *

A place of depth and self-expression. A harvest of attraction and creativity. Bluehart City was one big artistic muse; a long-lived cultural settlement with plenty green and many buildings manifesting distinct architectural styles, from Contemporary and Palazzo, to Gothic Revival and Victorian with decorative features.

A location with ornate auditoriums that were home to numerous theatrical and musical performances, and museums which boasted a rich collection of artworks by various persons of different times and racial backgrounds alongside a wide array of historical artefacts and antiquities that spanned over the ages.

All over the ornamental setting one could see the broad assemblage of street art; emotive and imaginative illustrations that communicated with the viewer and conveyed their own individual message through coloured design and symbolic representation – an out-pour of personal thoughts, feelings and passion that caressed the streets and smooth blue brick walls of Bluehart, going so far as to spread its influence into the city's own oriental zone; a visually striking and stylishly decorated district that offered an assortment of culinary delicacies and spectacles of art to the community.

...

But what once defined this wholesome, attractive setting... was seldom noticed now.

 _ **Appear** **ing on a land of demise,  
Where the lives of plenty saturated the soil.**_

Iconic landmarks had been disfigured, foundations had crumbled, homes and structures had been torn asunder and broken down into dishevelled rock formations, further recycled into hills of debris. Roads were cracked and bestrewed with potholes, and bodies of art had been vandalized; burnt and blackened. Put simply, the city had become a wrecked concrete jungle with dismantled structures and non-functional conveyances, the atmosphere a clear reflection of the grim, starless void above.

 _ **At first it looked like any other;  
Ordinary, unassuming, no mightier than a leaf.**_

Despite the decrepitude, however, the city was not lifeless. Survivors trudged through the remains of their city, but they were no longer the highlight of living. In the darkness beyond, the shadows of wicked life teemed with hunger and foul intent; a mass of unearthly beings writhing in anticipation. The existence of such entities had always been at a distance, unseen and rarely found in plain view. They were the talk of fables, the terrors of superstitions; figures of both wonder and calamity.

 _ **With mean thirst it swilled with gusto,  
The currency of the soul streaming with fast flow.**_

For long, the denizens of Bluehart had been ignorant of the good fortune that protected them all, but the ambiguity of the supernatural was no more. The city's ruination had brought with it a revelation – that the existence of these dark forces were, and always had been, a reality.

 _ **Budding, swelling, growing strong,  
Wearing green… but not for long.**_

* * *

 **...**


End file.
